


surprise!

by orphan_account



Series: stupefy, stun, and other synonms [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Asexual Character, Asexual Derek, Asexuality, Biracial Character, Derek is a Good Parent, Female Character of Color, Gen, Kid Fic, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Derek Hale, Polyamory, Scott is a Good Friend, Slow Build, but it's ok, eventually these things take time, stiles is a sarcastic little shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-18
Packaged: 2018-01-17 21:08:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1402501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Who are you?” the little girl asks when he sits down next to her, sliding her ice cream in front of her before he pulls his own close.</p><p>He freezes at that question. </p><p>“I’m…” he pauses, because having her call him Dad would be weird. He’s not a dad, not really. He’s just a fucked up former alpha that happens to have an illegitimate child. “I’m Derek."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i had feelings while at work.
> 
> the feelings decided to transform into this.
> 
> (i honestly have no idea how long this will end up being, but i doubt it'll be longer than five chapters. this isn't beta'd by anyone but me, because i have no friends in the fandom, and i'm also lazy)
> 
> edit: forgot to check the underage box when i first posted? i'm adding it because in this fic scott and stiles are both in high school, and a relationship will develop with derek, and we all know he's quite a bit older than them

The first time she cries, Derek doesn’t know what to do.

She’s fallen, scraped her knee on the sidewalk outside his loft, and while there’s not a lot of blood coming from the cut, it’s still enough to stain her brown skin. Tears well up in her dark eyes, and her screams make him want to slap his hand over her mouth. He toys with the idea of doing what his father always did when he fell as a child, but he doesn’t think flashing his eyes and digging his claws into her shoulder will help either so he settles for scooping her up in his arms, murmuring words of comfort that he’s heard in passing when he’s walked by parks where irritated toddlers screamed in their mother’s arms.

He wishes he could call her mother, but she had dropped off the toddler and left without bothering to give him her number.

“I didn’t ask for this kid,” she had told him, handing over the small bag of clothes that the girl (his daughter, and fuck, he can’t remember what she said the kid’s name was) had come with. “I have things to do. It took me forever to track you down, but you always whined about how much you missed your family, and I have a couple of angry packs that decided they’re going to hunt me across the country, so surprise! Here you go.”

Derek’s drawn from his thoughts by the realization that the girl has fallen silent in his arms. He feels a little bit of pride for comforting her, which is ridiculous, because a father is supposed to stop their daughters from even falling in the first place.

“Do you wanna go inside and get a treat?” Derek asks, because he remembers his mother handing out bowls of ice cream every time one of her kids healed from something big. He doesn’t think a small cut on the knee is anything big, even for a human, but maybe if he stuffs her full of ice cream, she’ll fall asleep and he can find a place for her to go.

“What kind of treat?” she asks him and it’s weird to hear her speak. She had spent the first ten minutes just staring at him with wide eyes before he tried to smile comfortingly and she fell trying to run away.

“I have ice cream. Do you like ice cream?” Derek asks while he carries her inside.

She nods excitedly before frowning. “Not strawberry. Strawberry’s icky. I don’t want strawberry.”

“I have chocolate. I think strawberry is gross, too,” he adds.

When he has her sitting at the table in the loft, he turns to grab the ice cream from the freezer. He thinks it’s been there for months, probably something Peter bought, but ice cream doesn’t go bad...right?

Just to be sure, he scraps off the top layer before putting two scoops in a bowl for her, and four for himself.

“Who are you?” the little girl asks when he sits down next to her, sliding her ice cream in front of her before he pulls his own close.

He freezes at that questions.

“I’m…” he pauses, because having her call him Dad would be weird. He’s not a dad, not really. He’s just a fucked up former alpha that happens to have an illegitimate child. “I’m Derek. Who are you?”

“Straudia. I’m four,” she adds unnecessarily before shoving a giant spoonful of ice cream into her mouth.

Derek frowns. “Don’t choke.”

She ignores him and keeps on shoveling giant spoonfuls of ice cream in her mouth, but she’s not choking, so that’s a win.

He waits until she’s done eating before he sets her up in his bed with netflix. He has absolutely no idea what she’s watching, but it looks cute, so he doesn’t give the show much more thought until he walks by after calling Peter (for the fifth time) just in time to see a squirrel get its head chopped off.

“Oh my god.”

Straudia looks up at him, frowning. “That wasn’t nice, was it?”

“You’re not supposed to watch things like that,” Derek says, grabbing his laptop and closing out of the program. Fuck Happy Tree Friends. Nobody should be allowed to make cartoon shows that involve woodland creatures cutting each other up.

From her spot on the bed, Straudia frowns, and it reminds him so much of himself that he kind of wants to laugh.

“Mom let me watch it,” she tells him before her frown gets shaky and tears begin to well up in her eyes. “I want Mom. Where is she? When’s she coming back?”

Derek doesn’t like unanswerable questions, likes them even less when they’re coming from his daughter that he just learned existed, so he opts to ignore them and instead turns on Dora the Explorer. “Here, watch this,” he places the computer on her lap. “No more of the other show,” he adds warningly before pulling out his phone and walking away.

“Hello?”

“There's an emergency.”  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I didn’t actually think you were serious,” Scott says, eyeing Straudia while she continues throwing the dolls her mother had sent her with at the wall next to Derek’s bed. He has no idea what game she’s playing, but it looks like fun.

“Why would I lie about this?” Derek demands before running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t know, man. I just never thought that you, uh, did sex. Cause you’re really kind of unapproachable.”

“I don’t. Do sex.”

“What?”

“Nothing,” Derek sighs, because that’s not something he feels like explaining right now. “Just...keep her for me.”

“Uhm...what?” Scott repeats.

“Keep her for me,” Derek says, stressing each word. “I can’t take care of a kid, Scott.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Scott agrees. “But neither can I, dude. I’ve got school and a friend that’s recovering from a recent possession by an ancient spirit. Like, how am I gonna add ‘take care of Derek’s totally unexpected kid’ to that? And how would I hide her from my mom?”

“Maybe your mom will take care of her,” Derek tries, but that idea is dropped at the look Scott shoots him. “Scott, I really can’t keep her. I just...she needs to go somewhere.”

Scott eyes the little girl for a few moments, chewing on his bottom lip. It’s his thinking face, and Derek would be excited, but Scott’s best ideas usually come when he’s not actively trying to think of them.

“I could call Stiles.”

That’s the stupidest idea he’s ever heard and he tells Scott as much.

“Shut up, you’re the one who called me, okay?” Scott snaps. “Look, calling Stiles is the best we can do, because his dad can probably find somewhere to put the kid.”

“I don’t want her just put anywhere,” Derek snarls, because the idea of having his child just sent to some random place, to be around strangers that he doesn’t know, makes his eyes start to glow.

“Well what the fuck do you want?”

“Maybe I can just run away. She can have the loft,” Derek jokes, but Scott’s mouth twists down into a sharp frown and he punches the other man in the arm.

“Don’t,” Scott hisses. “She’s your kid. You aren’t going to abandon her.”

Irritation wells up inside of Derek and he considers telling Scott that it was just a joke, that there’s no way he’s going to step out of this loft and never return, not when he has a four year old sitting in it throwing her stupid fucking dolls at his stupid fucking wall, but the words all die in his throat when he really takes in Scott’s expression. He’s spent enough time living in the past to recognize when someone else’s demons are settling around their shoulders with cruelly whispered words, so he settles for grunting and looking back at Straudia.

“I don’t know what to do,” he sighs.

“Like, in this moment specifically? Or in general? Dude, have you never babysat before?”

Derek glares. “Of course I’ve babysat. But this isn’t babysitting. I don’t know how to raise a kid.”

“Yeah, well, nobody does,” Scott shrugs. “Look, man, I’m not an expert, but I can help you out. And give you some advice.”

“Advice?”

“Yeah,” Scott nods, putting on a serious expression. “Get a fucking job.”  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derek won’t say that Scott’s advice was actually good advice, but it was prettyokayalmostgood advice, because at some point (not anywhere in the foreseeable future, but still at some point) the wealth that his dead family had hoarded over time would run out.

Besides that, he was apparently a father, and dads had jobs. Or something. He was a little fuzzy on what exactly good dads did, considering his father rarely came up from the basement where he brooded over old textbooks, unless it was to yell at one of his offspring for making too much noise until his wife snarled him into submission.

He had pulled out his laptop after Scott left and he finally put Straudia down for bed with every intention of actually looking for a job, but his first attempt at filling out an application is interrupted by a sudden scream.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Derek hisses, slamming his laptop shut. He walks over to where Straudia has sat up in bed, tears running down her face. “What’s wrong with you?” he asks, perhaps a little too gruffly, but who the fuck cares?

“I had a bad dream,” Straudia sniffs, wiping at her eyes with her hand. “I want Mommy. Mommy can make the bad things go away,” she adds, sounding so pathetic that part of Derek wants to turn around and leave. It’s not the part of himself that he’s most proud of.

“Your mom isn’t here right now,” Derek says.

“When she’s coming back? I want her,” she says, shoulders shaking with poorly suppressed sobs.

“She isn’t,” Derek snaps, and immediately wishes he could retract the statement when Straudia starts to scream.

“Why isn’t she coming back? No! No! Don’t! I want Mommy!” Straudia howls, slapping at Derek’s hands when he awkwardly tries rubbing her back, because he thinks he read in a book somewhere that it was soothing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Derek says, pulling his hands back and staring down at the crying toddler for a few long moments. “Just...stay here,” he finally says, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Don’t forget to breathe in between screams,” he adds before dialing Scott’s number and turning away.

“Why are you calling me at midnight?” Scott snaps when he answers. “Oh my god, why does it sound like you’re killing someone in your apartment?”

“She won’t stop crying.”

“I can hear that,” Scott mutters. “Why is she crying? What did you do? And why are you calling me instead of stopping it?”

“I tried to stop it,” Derek growls. “But she won’t let me.”

“Okay. Again, why is she crying?”

Derek shifts on his feet. “I...might have told her that her mother wasn’t coming back?”

There is no reply.

Derek has to pull his phone away from his ear just to make sure that Scott hasn’t hung up on him.

“Scott?”

“You’re an idiot.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“I’m coming over. You owe me, big time.”

Derek snorts. “Maybe if I was interrupting something, but I can hear your friend’s obnoxious breathing in the background. Stopping your Halo gaming session with Stiles isn’t something that I have to pay you back for.”

“It’s not Halo,” Scott says. “Be there in ten.”  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“We were playing Mario Kart, you heathen,” Stiles announces thirty minutes later. Derek can barely hear him over the sound of Straudia’s screaming.

“Why are you here?” Derek demands while Straudia pounds on him with her fists. She does not like being held when she’s trying to have a tantrum, but Derek had gotten tired of the sound of her fist on his wall.

Stiles holds up his hands. “Calm down, wolf boy. I wasn’t gonna sit around in Scott’s room when I had the chance to meet your hellish offspring.”

“She’s not hellish,” Derek snaps. When Stiles pointedly looks at the screaming child in his arms, he huffs, “She’s just tired.”

Before Stiles can say anything more, Scott enters the loft with a bunch of grocery bags.

“I don’t need groceries.”

“First off, that’s a lie. Second off, this is not for you,” Scott tells him before he puts on one of those big, exaggerated smiles that sometimes make Derek want to punch him in the face. Nobody deserves to look that happy. “Heey, Straudia, do you remember me? I’m Scott, Derek’s best friend!”

“You’re not my mom. I don’t want to talk to you.”

“You’re not my best friend.”

Off to the side, Stiles whispers, “Ouch.”

Scott shoots them both a look before turning back to Straudia. “I got you some presents. Do you want to see them?”

At the word presents, she perks up a little bit, but there is still a considering frown on her face as she looks at Scott carefully.

“What kind of presents are they?”

“Oh, the good kind. Definitely the good kind,” Scott says.

“I want them,” Straudia says, squirming in Derek’s arms. When he sets her back down, she tries to grab at the presents, but Scott pulls them back.

“Wait,” he says. “I’ll let you have your present, but first you have to apologize to Derek. It wasn’t very nice to hit him, was it?”

Straudia glares before shaking her head. “No. Mommy says not to hit people,” she sighs before looking back at Derek. “I’m sorry. It’s not nice to hit.”

“Uhm...that’s alright?” Derek tries, because he isn’t sure what you’re supposed to say. He’s not used to apologies. People usually just hit him and move on with their lives.

Scott holds out his hand when Straudia turns back to him. “C’mon, we’ll go look at these at the table so we don’t make a mess.”

“A mess? What’s in the bag?” Derek demands.

“Calm down, he got art supplies,” Stiles explains when Scott fails to answer.

“Don’t get paint on my table,” Derek says. “Scott, did you hear me? I don’t want paint on my table!”

Scott flips him the bird.  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Three hours later, Derek’s table is covered in paint and his daughter is slumped over in her chair. There is an obscene amount of glitter tangled in her dark curls, and he bites back a growl of irritation. Glitter is impossible to get off of smooth surfaces, how the hell is he going to get it out of her hair?

“So, just a little tip,” Scott says while hanging stick figure drawings on Derek’s fridge. “Next time, don’t be so blunt telling your kid that their mom isn’t gonna be coming back.”

“I second that.”

“Fuck off, Stiles,” Derek snaps.

“Hey! There is a child in the house!” Stiles hisses, pointing his finger at the sleeping girl. “Oh, hey, that looks kind of uncomfortable,” he adds, tilting his head. “Is that picture going to dry to her face?”

“Maybe somebody should put her in bed.”

Derek doesn’t get why they’re both looking meaningfully at him until he realizes that it’s his job to put her to bed. Which is stupid, considering how poorly that worked out the first time.

He tells them as much, but picks he up anywhere and carries her back over to his bed. After he tucks her in, he turns around to see Scott and Stiles staring at him with identical expressions on their faces.

“What?” he demands, crossing his arms over his chest. He doesn’t like being looked at.

“Nothing,” Scott says. “It’s just...weird, okay?”

“Yeah, like, out of all the guys we know, you are not the one that we would’ve bet on being a dad. To be honest, I didn’t even know that you could interact with people outside of threatening them,” Stiles adds.

“I could say the same about you.”

It’s a low blow, referring to Stiles’ possession, and even though he’s never been a very tactful person, it’s normally a blow that he would avoid. Tonight, however, Derek doesn’t even give himself time to think before the words are falling out of his mouth.

For a second, Stiles’ jaw clenches, and he looks like he’s contemplating throwing the bottle of glitter in his hands, but the expression is gone without seconds. Instead, he settles for pointing threateningly at Derek.

“I’m going to forget you said that because you are probably not at your emotional best right now,” Stiles says. “But next time, I’m totally throwing the rest of this glitter in your bed. Have fun sleeping on a cloud of sparkles, Doom McGloom.”

“Doom McGloom?”

“It’s past midnight!” Stiles exclaims. “I should be sleeping right now, considering that I finally can, so excuse me if I’m not at my wittiest.”

“You’re excused,” Scott mutters before turning his attention back to Derek. “You know, dude, we can stay over for the weekend if you want. I mean, you probably have stuff to do tomorrow, things to buy...we can watch Straudia.”

Derek almost says no.

The word is on the very tip of his tongue when he swallows it down, because he knows that he can’t deny that he does have things to do tomorrow, like grocery shopping and job hunting, and he has no desire of bringing Straudia with. He doesn’t know how to handle a tantrum when it happens in his own home, away from judging eyes. He definitely can’t handle one in the middle of the grocery store.

“Fine.”

Scott blinks. “I didn’t expect you to actually accept.”

Derek growls, “If you don’t want to, you don’t hav-”

“No, no! That’s not what I meant. We’ll help you out, man,” Scott rushes to say.

“Yeah, besides, we’re kind of obligated to stay. Cause, see, your daughter is a pretty cool kid. We can’t let you gloom that out of her,” Stiles adds with an easy grin that Derek wants to smack off his face.

He decides not to, because it isn’t polite to hit.

Instead, he settles for scooping up a handful of glitter, and throwing it at the teenager’s face.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, thank you guys for reading the first chapter and, to whoever reads this one, thanks again.
> 
> i had this chapter written before i even posted this story, hence why it’s up so fast. i’ll try to keep updating relatively quickly, though.

He doesn’t sleep that night.

It’s not for lack of trying, because he does. He lies on his back for hours, waiting for sleep to come, before he calls it quits. He’s had sleepless nights before, and he knows that's he's reached the point where, no matter how tired he may be, his mind won’t quiet enough for him to sleep.

Eventually, he settles for sitting on the edge of his bed, switching between staring off into space and watching Straudia. She stays curled up while she sleeps, drooling freely on his pillow, and it reminds him of old pictures that his mom used to keep in her photo albums. She would always laugh when she pulled them out, telling whoever was nearby that Derek was the most wolf like out of them all, quiet and sullen and see, he even slept curled up in a little ball.

He isn’t sure what time it is when he leaves, but he knows it’s still early enough that he won’t chance running into Scott or Stiles on his way out.

It’s probably a shitty move to slip out of the loft without saying anything, or leaving a note, but he’s an adult, and he has things to do. Like grocery shopping.

And job hunting.

And maybe finding somebody to take care of the giant hole in his wall, because he doesn’t think that’s a feature any house with children is supposed to have.

He decides to shop first, because there definitely isn’t enough food in his loft for two werewolves, a teenager with a bottomless pit for a stomach, and a little girl to have lunch.

He’s in the middle of the cereal aisle, trying to decide which kind he should buy, when someone speaks up behind him.

“Derek Hale!”

“Jesus fucking shit,” he curses when he startles, almost throwing the box of cereal at the shelves in front of him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” the woman says when he turns to look at her. She offers him an apologetic smile.

Derek keeps looking at her for a couple more seconds before he frowns. “Who are you?”

“You don’t remember me?” the woman asks, and she looks genuinely upset about it. Derek wants to assure her that she shouldn’t, because he did his best to forget a lot of people, but he keeps his mouth shut. “I’m Victoria,” she adds after a couple of moments of awkward silence. “We were on the cross country team together.”

“Victoria, oh, yeah, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t recognize you...because of the hair,” Derek lies, but the woman preens and tosses back a strand of bright purple hair.

“I got it done last week. I told my niece if she got straight A’s this semester and stopped turning her mom’s hair grey from stress, I’d dye my hair to match hers, and she did, so…” Victoria’s voice trails off before she plasters on another fake smile. “Anyway, what are you doing back in town? I thought you left after the, uh…”

“The fire? I did. Then I came back.”

She looks at him, clearly expecting a long story of how his life had been going ever since he and Laura had left town, but when he doesn’t offer one she starts talking again.

“Well, I never did get to offer my condolences for that-”

“That’s okay,” Derek says, because it honestly is. He doesn’t want people’s pity.

“Okay, well, I’m going to get going. I’m still on the clock, but it was nice talking to you, Derek,” she says, starting to turn away.

“Wait!” Derek exclaims. “You work here?”

“Uh, yeah. In the bakery,” Victoria tells him, nodding towards the back of the store, where he knows they have a small area for the bakery nestled in a corner.

“My mom used to work here,” Derek says. He doesn’t know what he’s offering up the information, but he can’t stop himself.

The smile on Victoria’s face is more real this time, although a little sad, and Derek didn’t mean to make her sad.

“I remember her, she decorated the cakes right? She was really good at it. It’s too bad she never passed on her tricks. Our last cake decorater quit a month ago, made a youtube video and everything,” Victoria adds upon noticing Derek’s slightly confused expression.

“Oh. So...you still need somebody?” Derek asks.

“I’d kill for somebody,” Victoria says in a voice so sincere that it makes him laugh a little. It reminds him of Laura.

“Well, you know, she did teach me,” Derek says.

Victoria stares at him for a few moments before she claps her hands together. “Oh, good! You’re looking for a job, right? You wouldn’t say unless you needed a job. God, this is good, we really need somebody. You stay here, I’ll get you an application. Or, no, wait, follow me. That works better.”

She’s still talking when she turns away. Derek quickly knocks a bunch of colorful boxes of cereal into his cart before following. A weird feeling twists inside of his stomach as he does, and he can’t tell if it’s excitement, or stress induced indigestion.  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s probably excitement, Derek decides when he’s sitting in his car and staring blankly out the window. If it was indigestion, he’d be crankier. He thinks.

“Fuck, life is weird,” Derek sighs, tilting his head back against the headrest.

It’s a fact that Derek’s been aware of for a very long time, so there’s no need for him to say it out loud, but a small part of him had been hoping that by acknowledging the weirdness, it would leave.

It does not work like that.

“Come on,” he sighs, looking up at the sky. “Something has to happen to balance this out. Lightning? Someone’s car going to suddenly slam into mine?”

When neither of those things happen, Derek starts his car and waits for it to electrocute him.

Nothing.

“This is weird,” Derek says as he begins to drive.

He has a car full of groceries, a job that functioning members of society will recognize as an actual fucking job, and nobody has tried to kill him. It’s still early, at least. Things can always change.

That’s when his phone starts ringing.

“What do you want?”

“Ouch, man, that’s a harsh tone. I’ve done nothing to deserve that.”

Derek sighs. “Just answer the question, Stiles.”

“Alright, alright. We just, uh, need to know where your first aid kit is. Or if you even have one. Now that I think about it, it’s probably not necessary for you to have one, huh?”

“I run with humans, of course I have one. It’s under my bed,” Derek says, and he’s about to hang up when he realizes that there’s no reason either of them should need a first aid kit. “Stiles...what happened?”

“Nothing bad,” Stiles rushes to say, as if he can tell that Derek’s about a second away from breaking every speeding limit. “Straudia just tripped, trying to come down the last step. Got a scratch. Not a big one! Just...she’s insisting on a bandaid. Does it take awhile for the wolfy healing to kick in?” Stiles adds. “Cause I thought this would’ve been gone by now.”

Derek sighs. “She’s not a wolf.”

“What?”

“She’s not a wolf,” Derek repeats. “Her mother is, and I am, but she’s not. It skips sometimes.”

Before Stiles can reply to that, Derek can hear Straudia loudly protesting something in the background.

“How have I been gone less than two hours and she’s crying again? Are you two incompetent?” Derek demands, tightening his grip on his phone until he’s sure it might break.

“Hey, rude. No need for that,” Stiles says. “And she’s crying because you don’t have princess band aids. Normal bandaids just won’t do for Miss Straudia.”

“Just put a fucking band aid on her so she doesn’t bleed on my floor. I’ll be back in twenty,” Derek snaps, ending the call before Stiles can get in another word.

He takes longer than necessary to stop at a stop sign and contemplate his life before he turns his car around, heading back in the direction of a Target he had passed.

“Stupid. Should’ve never trusted teenagers,” Derek grumbles to himself as he walks into the store. “Hey, you,” he says, pointing at someone in a red shirt and khakis that’s walking by. They stop and look at him as if he’s summoned them to their execution. “Where are the princess band aids?”  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Princess band aids, it turns out, can refer to a lot of different people. He glares at the boxes on his table. It’s possible that buying every box with anything vaguely princess related was overkill, but at least he’ll have enough band aids to last him a lifetime.

Maybe.

“Ooooh, I like this!” Straudia announces, holding up a box with Disney princesses on the front. So far, she’s been vocally appreciative of every single box spilled out on the table.

It’d be annoying, if it wasn’t kind of cute.

“Here, let me see,” Derek says, holding out his hand. When she gives him the box, he opens it and fishes around inside. “What princess do you want?”

“You know the Disney princesses?” Stiles asks from beside him.

Derek ignores him.

“I like Tiana. She’s pretty,” Straudia says.

“How do you know the princesses?”

“Sit up on the table,” Derek says, continuing to ignore Stiles.

There’s already a band aid on the new cut from today, and Derek isn’t going to go through the trouble of trying to remove it, so he simply places the Tiana one over it instead.

“There. That good?” Derek asks.

“It’s purple. I like it,” Straudia smiles before pointing to the small scrape she had gotten the other day. “This one needs a band aid too, right?”

“Oh, well, of course,” Derek says, holding out the box. “What one, though?”

Straudia takes the box from him, frowning in concentration as she pulls out every band aid and lines them up on the table beside her.

“I like this one,” Stiles says, leaning forward to point at the one with Rapunzel on it.

“Yeah, that one,” Straudia agrees, picking it up and handing it over to Derek. “You have to put it on, because the magic won’t work otherwise.”

Derek arches one brow. “Magic? What magic?”

Straudia shakes her head and looks at him like he’s the biggest idiot she’s ever come across. “I can’t tell you,” she sighs. “Otherwise the magic won’t work.”

“Yeah, gosh, how could you forget that?” Scott quips when he enters the room with the chocolate milk that Straudia had requested. She takes it from him with a happy little squeal, but Stiles taps her on the shoulder before she can take a drink.

“Say thank you.”

Straudia scowls, but turns back to Scott anyway. “Thank you, Scott,” she says, looking back at Stiles, who nods towards Derek. “Thank you for the princess band aids, Derek,” she adds before jumping down from her perch.

“So,” Stiles begins, leaning closer to Derek. “How do you know the Disney princesses?”

“I had sisters,” Derek reminds him.

“Okay, yeah, but that explains old school. Not Rapunzel and Merida and...what?” He trails off when he notices Scott and Derek looking at him with similarly amused expressions.

“How do you know the Disney princesses?” Derek asks.

“Fuck you,” Stiles says, flipping him off, but there’s no heat behind it.

Derek can’t help but chuckle quietly to himself while he wanders into the kitchen and starts putting away the groceries. It’s a little strange having things to actually put away. Ever since he came to Beacon Hills to try and find his sister, he’s been keen on making sure never to plant his roots too firmly. He had always only ever gotten what he needed for that day, or for that week. Now, he has enough food for months, which is probably a little bit of overkill, but who cares?

Scott comes up and leans on the counter while he’s debating which cupboard the cereal should go in. In the other room, Derek can hear Straudia and Stiles watching something on his laptop.

“So, we have school tomorrow,” Scott says and Derek nods.

“I know the days of the week.”

“Don’t be a butt,” Scott says. “I’m trying to say, we probably shouldn't skip again, so we'll both be heading home. You think you’ll be alright?”

“Last night wasn’t a great one, but it was a fluke,” Derek says, looking over at Scott, who is watching him with a curious expression. “I mean...I’m not used to it, having her here. It’s only been a night, though, so that’s okay. But, I’m more used to it than I was yesterday, so that’s good, right?”

“Yeah...yeah, that’s good,” Scott agrees. It seems like the conversation is over, and Derek turns back to the task at hand, when Scott speaks up again. “I know that you don’t have to answer if you don’t want to but...I just...how did you even end up with a kid?”

“I’m not going to explain sex to you.”

“That’s not what I’m asking,” Scott says. “You told me. You didn’t do sex-”

“Scott-”

“I’m not gonna make you go into a long explanation about your identity and stuff, Derek. I know you’ll just throw that box of Lucky Charms at me if I do. I’m just curious, is all. Besides, like I said, you don’t have to answer,” Scott adds, standing up straight like he’s about to go.

Derek seriously considers not answering and letting him go.

After all, it’s easier to just let things lie, until eventually people get so used to sidestepping around something that they forget it’s there, but he doesn’t want to do that. He’s not looking at Scott anymore, but he can hear the teenager starting to go, and he doesn’t really want that either. Not right now.

“I was angry.”

“Huh?”

“I was angry. After the fire. We were out of state, in Minneapolis, do you know where that is?” Derek asks, but he doesn’t wait for an answer. He just keeps on talking, because if he stops then he won’t say what he means to. “It’s in Minnesota, don’t go there. It’s depressing. But, God, we were there and Laura was so quiet. She just didn’t _do_ anything and I needed her to, Scott, but she wouldn’t, so I found other people. Other wolves. And the more I came back to our shitty apartment smelling like strangers, the angrier she got at me, and it felt like what I deserved, and it meant I finally had a sister -an alpha- again, so I just...kept doing it.”

It’s quiet.

He’s knows Scott is still there, because the sound of him breathing is too close to be anywhere other than the kitchen, and he knows Stiles is eavesdropping. The sound of whatever show he has Straudia watching is muffled. He probably made her put on headphones.

“Derek,” Scott finally says.

“I don’t want sympathy,” Derek tells him, opening the closest cupboard and shoving the box of cereal inside. “I’m just telling you because you asked, and I owe you.”

“Owe me?”

“For helping out,” Derek elaborates.

Scott’s quiet again.

He hates it.

“Do you...do you want us to stay?”

It’s not what Derek expected him to say, but he’s suddenly painfully aware of the fact that he kind of wants them gone. He doesn’t like sharing, and he likes it even less when the people stay around to look at him with sad eyes, like their tangible pity will somehow make his life less of a shit storm.

“No, you're right. You guys shouldn't skip another day.”

“Okay. Well, call me if you need anything tomorrow, okay?” Scott steps closer, puts one hand on Derek’s shoulder in a gesture of comfort that he makes sure he doesn’t lean into. “Are you okay, though?”

“I’m fine,” Derek sighs, shrugging off Scott’s hand. “I’m just going to make lunch, give Straudia a bath. You guys can stop by tomorrow if you want,” he adds. “Just, uh, make sure you call? Don’t just barge in. Can’t guarantee some instincts won’t kick in and I don’t kick your ass for intruding, now that she’s here.”

Scott looks at him seriously for a moment before he laughs. “Dude, nice to know that you think so highly of yourself, but you definitely can’t kick my ass.”

Derek allows himself a small smile before he shoves Scott away. “Get the fuck out, go do the homework you missed or whatever, and tell Stiles the next time he tries eavesdropping I’ll break his computer.”

“Hey! Threats are completely uncalled for!” Stiles yells from the other room.

Scott laughs again before turning around.

“Bye, Derek,” he says over his shoulder. “We’ll be be back to bug you again, just have to head out and grab some stuff, make sure my mom believes I'm still alive and well.”

“I’m thrilled.”

Derek waits until the two have said their goodbyes to Straudia (he can hear both of them promising to come see her tomorrow, and he’s relieved to note that neither of them are lying) before he walks out of the kitchen.

Straudia looks up from where she’s sitting at the table, coloring in one of the sketchbooks that Scott had brought her. She smiles when she sees him and sets down her crayon to show off the drawing.

“That’s very good,” Derek says, squinting at the mass of squiggly lines. “What is it?”

Straudia huffs, looking slightly offended. “It’s you. I was going to give it to you because your walls are very sad, and I think you should have something pretty on them.”

“Oh.”

“You should draw a picture, too,” Straudia tells him without looking up from her new drawing. “Then we can put them up together and your house will be pretty.”

“Maybe later,” Derek tells her. “First, I think you need a bath. You have glitter in your hair still.”

Straudia looks up, giggling. “I know, it’s supposed to be fairy dust. We were playing pretend.”

“Fairy dust or not, still time for a bath. C’mon,” Derek says, starting to move away when Straudia makes a noise of protest.

“I’m the princess, Derek. We’re still playing pretend. So, you have to carry me to the tub, because you are my butler and butlers don’t make princesses walk,” Straudia declares while she stands in her chair, holding out her arms. “I want a piggyback ride, because those are more fun,” she adds.

“And what if your butler says no?”

“Then I will draw a very ugly house and put it on his walls, and his house will be ugly, and he will be sad,” Straudia says, narrowing her eyes. She says it with such sincerity that Derek has no doubt she would get up in the middle of the night just to try and hang ugly pictures up, so he lets her climb onto his back.

“Okay, princess, no choking the butler,” he reminds her when her grip gets a little too tight before he walks with her.

“Do you have bubbles? Mom put bubbles in my bath.”

“Uh...yes,” Derek says, deciding he can sacrifice his bottle of shampoo for the sake of bubbles.

“Good, cause bathes without bubbles are boooring.”

Derek makes a noise of agreement before he sets Straudia down and starts running water. He tests it, trying to make sure it isn’t too hot, but he’s forgotten what’s too hot for human children.

“Straudia, come test the water. Too hot?”

She sets her hand in the water in the tub, staring off into space with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. “Hmmm….no. No, it’s just right.”

“Good, here. You can put the bubbles in,” Derek says, handing her the bottle of shampoo.

“These aren’t the bubbles that Mom used,” Straudia pouts.

“They’ll still make bubbles, I promise you. Put them in, right there,” he instructs, nodding at where the water is pouring out of the faucet.

She looks like she doesn’t believe him, but she pours the shampoo in anyway, and lets out a delighted laugh when it starts to make bubbles.

“You get in the tub,” Derek tells her after she’s done with her mini celebration. He turns away to pull a towel out of the bathroom closet and when he turns back, she’s sitting in the tub patting bubbles on her face.

“It’s a beard, like yours,” Straudia tells him without pausing.

“Better than mine, I think,” Derek says, kneeling down beside the tub. He turns off the water, deciding that having it up to her belly is high enough, and picks up her bag that he had brought up with them. He pulls out the bottle of conditioner that Jazz had packed (no shampoo, just conditioner, but Derek thinks he remembers Jazz ranting once about how she didn’t use any on her hair, so Straudia had to be the same) and he sets aside the only other clean outfit in the bag.

“Maybe, instead of making pictures,” Derek says, “we can go buy you new clothes today.”

Straudia’s eyes get wide. “I love clothes.”

“Good, that’ll make shopping easier,” Derek mutters. “Okay, I have to wash your hair now. Can’t go anywhere if you have glitter all over.”

“I don’t like getting my hair washed,” Straudia protests. “It gets in my eyes and it hurts. I don’t like it.”

“I won’t get it in your eyes. Just tip your head back and keep them shut, okay?”

Derek waits until she does before he picks up the cup he had also brought up. He fills it up with water before pouring it out, careful to use one hand as a shield so the water won’t run in her eyes. Derek can notice her tensing up as soon as the first drop hits, but she doesn’t scream at least.

“There. That’s the first part. Now I just have to rub this in and you can play until I have to rinse it out.”

“Okay. But I need toys,” Straudia says while he massages the conditioner into her hair. It’s thick, so he’s generous with the amount that he uses.

“I don’t have toys. We’ll get some of those later, alright?”

“Alright,” Straudia sighs, as if she’s doing him a favor by being so agreeable, but he supposes she is.

When he’s done conditioning her hair, she goes back to scooping up what’s left of the bubbles to use as beard material. It’s nice, he realizes while pulling out her toothbrush and toothpaste to set on the sink, doing something so simple for her. It lets him forget the anxiety that’s been following around all day.

He’s in the middle of going through the rest of her bag when she decides it’s time to try making tidal waves with her arm, and water sloshes over the side, soaking the floor.

“Oops. Sorry,” Straudia says, but she doesn’t look particularly upset.

“It’s fine. No more tidal waves, though,” Derek warns. “I’ll be right back. I need another towel.”

It doesn’t take him long to find a towel that he can just set on the floor, and when he kneels back down he decides that they should probably get a move on. He really does need to take her to get clothes.

“Okay, time to rinse your hair out.”

“Don’t get it in my eyes,” Straudia warns him.

“I won’t,” Derek promises, gently tilting her head back before he fills up the cup. He shields her eyes again, going as quickly as he can without spilling water all over her, and it doesn’t take him very long to get all of the product out. And, he hopes, most of the glitter.

“Will you wrap me up like a burrito?” Straudia asks when Derek starts to drain the tub.

“Is that another thing your mom does?”

“Yeah, it’s fun. Will you?”

“Maybe next time. Get dressed. You can, right?” Derek asks, wrapping her up in her towel with a frown, because he isn’t really sure how old kids are before they start to dress themselves.

Straudia scoffs at him. “Duh.”

“Don’t say duh,” Derek says while he starts to rinse out the tub.

When he turns back around, Straudia is sitting on the ground, trying to pull on a pair of pink pants that don’t want to cooperate with her. He waits for her to ask for help, but when she doesn’t, he sighs and grabs her hands.

“Stand up,” he tells her, which is kind of pointless, since he’s lifting her up anyway.

He helps her pull her jeans up the rest of the way, but she insists on putting her shirt on himself. When she’s completely dressed, Derek bends down to pick up her bag.

“Lead the way. We have to go do your hair.”

“Is it going to hurt?” Straudia asks him while they walk down the stairs. She holds onto the rail while she goes down them, but Derek grabs onto her hand anyway.

“Why would it hurt?”

Derek realizes why less than five minutes later, when he tries to run the comb through her hair as quickly as he does through his and she punches him in the leg.

“That hurts!”

She tilts her head back to look at him with an irritated expression. She also looks a little like she might cry, which makes guilt well up inside of him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” he murmurs, turning to look at the assortment of hair products he had pulled out of her bag.

It’s overwhelming.

There’s three different types of hair lotion, a container of grease, two brushes, a comb with a tail, two other combs (with half of the teeth missing), some hair spray, and a wide assortment of beads and barretts.

He wishes he could just growl at it all until whatever product he needed magically jumped into his hands, but life doesn’t work that way, because life sucks.

“I think we’re just going to do a simple ponytail,” Derek sighs, picking up the brush with the smoother bristles.

“I like ponytails.”

“Good, you’ll be wearing them a lot,” Derek says while he pulls her hair back. She hits him in the leg a couple more times, whenever he pulls too hard or keeps his grip too tight. He thinks that a good parent is supposed to tell her not to hit, but Derek’s not overly fond of having his hair pulled on either, so he can’t blame her for it.

It takes him much longer than he’s proud to admit before he has her hair in a messy ponytail. He looks at it closely, frowning, before he sighs and sets the brush down.

“That’s as good as it’s going to get.”

“My head hurts. You suck,” Straudia says.

“Don’t be rude,” Derek admonishes. “Now, let’s go. We have shopping to do.”

“Are we still getting me clothes?” Straudia demands, her eyes wide with excitement.

Derek nods while he helps her slip on her shoes. “Of course, that’s what I said.”

He immediately wishes he hadn’t said that, because Straudia starts screaming.

And doesn’t stop.

 _Well,_ Derek thinks as he slides the loft door shut behind them and takes her hand. _At least they’re happy screams._

Still, he doesn’t want her to collapse on the way to the store, so he repeats last night’s advice.

“Remember, don’t forget to breathe between screams.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i work in a grocery store bakery. our decorater quit. she also made a youtube video. 
> 
> i also wanted to just note a couple things
> 
> 1) i am asexual and so are some of my friends, so i’m taking some of our different views on sex to use when i’m thinking about how derek is and where he personally registers on the scale, because it's not just black and white. he's ace, but he's had sex.
> 
> 2) i’m biracial and i remember really appreciating my dad because he could do my hair while nobody else could. it might seem like a small thing but there’s something really nice about someone learning how to do your hair, or taking a long time to do it for you. in the fic straudia might be too young to appreciate that derek’s trying (and he’s gonna keep trying cause derek is not going to have his daughter walk around with hair that isn’t done), but that’s something that she’ll appreciate when she’s older. 
> 
> and lastly,
> 
> again, thank you for reading.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is kind of short but on the plus side
> 
> kira.
> 
> like i don’t even need to say more. just...i like kira. have some kira.

Derek decides he isn’t going to risk driving to the store when he doesn’t have a safety seat for Straudia. Wolf reflexes may mean that he isn’t going to end up in an accident that’s his fault, but he can’t backflip away from other people’s stupidity.

Besides, it’s not that far of a walk to the store, and Derek can easily carry any bags that they’ll be coming back with. He doesn’t, however, account for the piggy back ride he ends up having to give Straudia. Within ten minutes, she had switched from happy screams to loud and dramatic complaints about how tired she was until Derek had offered her a piggyback ride.

She’s happy now, at least.

She could also be sleeping. Derek isn’t entirely sure. All he knows is that she’s stopped crying and there’s enough quiet for him to be left alone with thoughts that have been bouncing around inside his head all day.

Thoughts like, where the fuck is Peter (because nothing good ever happens when his uncle disappears for more than a day) and what the fuck is going on with Jazz (because even if they haven’t spoken in years, since before he left Minneapolis, he still cares, and he can’t help but think that maybe she’ll beat whatever is after her -because it’s Jazz, and she never let anyone or anything get in her way- and she’ll come back for Straudia and he won’t be solely responsible for someone else’s life).

“Derek,” Straudia suddenly mumbles, drawing him away from the familiar tickle of anxiety. “Are you a wolf? Like Mommy?”

Derek’s caught off guard by the question. He knows that Straudia is aware of werewolves, given that her mother was one, and Jazz wasn’t the lone wolf type, so she had probably raised Straudia within a pack (and he shudders to think of what had happened to the pack that Jazz had to run and abandon her child), but it doesn’t make it any less strange to hear the question so easily fall from human lips. He’s used to keeping werewolves a secret around the humans in Beacon Hills.

“Yeah, I am,” Derek says after a while.

“Mommy said I couldn’t trust other wolves, cause they might hurt me,” Straudia tells him, but she doesn’t sound alarmed.

“Do you think that I’ll hurt you?”

“No. You’re nice,” Straudia says in one of those matter of fact tones that kids like to use. It’s weird, being called nice. It’s not a word that’s been used to describe him in a very long time.

“I think you’re nice, too, Straudia,” he says before dropping to a crouch. “Okay, off. We’re almost there.”

“Carry me in the store.”

“Okay, but if I do, then I’m not buying any clothes or toys. Just boring stuff for me,” Derek says, moving to stand when Straudia yells.

“No! I’ll walk, I’ll walk,” she says, releasing her hold around his neck so she just drops to the ground.

Derek stands and looks down at her. “Smart choice, now c’mon.”

The store is quiet when they enter, which Derek is thankful for. He’s never been one for crowds. They always make him want to punch whatever person is closest to him. It takes him a second to find where the girl’s clothes are, but he’s pretty sure he’s pretty sure it’s the right section, because as soon as he looks at it he feels like he’s been blinded.

“So much pink,” Derek mutters, sounding somewhat dazed, while Straudia starts to run in circles around him.

“Look at this pretty!” she exclaims, grabbing a headband and shoving it at him. “Can I have it?”

He should say no, because she doesn’t need a headband, she needs clothes. But it is kind of pretty.

“Fine. But no more. We have to find clothes,” Derek adds when she looks like she’s about to push the entire display at him and beg to have it.

He realizes that he doesn’t actually know what size she is until they’re standing in front of a display of shirts with a lot of cats and glitter on them. He’s in the middle of kneeling on the ground behind her, reading the tag of her shirt, when he becomes aware of a familiar person nearby.

Derek stands, feeling suddenly nervous, even though that’s stupid, because it’s not like she’ll judge him or say anything dumb in fr-

“Derek!”

Kira’s voice pulls him from his thoughts and he turns to face her.

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be scowling in the darkest corner?” Kira asks before her attention turns to Straudia. “Why do you have a kid with you?”

Straudia speaks up before Derek can. “I’m Straudia. You’re really pretty. I like your skirt.”

Kira smiles. “Well, thank you, Straudia. I really like your shirt.”

“My alpha got it for me for Christmas,” Straudia says, looking down at her shirt with a little smile.

Derek can see Kira’s eyes widen slightly when Straudia says alpha and he nudges the little girl. “How about you go pick out one more headband?”

Straudia’s eyes widen with excitement and she squeals before running off to the display. Derek watches her flit around, picking up each headband and trying it on, before he turns back to Kira.

“So...why do you have a kid?” Kira asks again. “And why does she have an alpha?”

“Had. She had an alpha,” Derek corrects. “And, uh, she’s mine, I guess?”

Kira doesn’t say anything for a long time. Derek’s almost afraid that he’s somehow broken her.

“Duuuuude,” Kira finally whispers.

“You’ve been spending too much time with Scott.”

Kira waves her hand at him “Just….dude, you have a kid. And she’s adorable!”

“Thanks?” Derek frowns. “Look, don’t tell her, though.”

“Tell her what?”

“That I’m her father.”

Kira frowns at him. “She doesn’t know that you’re her dad?”

“I avoided mentioning it yesterday and now I don’t know how to tell her so...I’m just not going to. For now.”

Kira snorts. “You’re hopeless,” she tells him, but drops the topic when Straudia comes running up with a very feathery headband.

“I like this one because it looks like a bird flew on my head,” she says, placing the headband on and doing a quick spin that ends with her stumbling into a rack of jackets. Derek helps her up with a poorly muffled laugh and she glares at both him and the rack before turning back to Kira. “You should be my shopping buddy. Derek’s gonna buy me all the new clothes-”

“Not all of them, what?”

“-and he’s really boring but you are pretty, so you should shop with me,” Straudia finishes, ignoring Derek.

“Okay,” Kira agrees with another smile, looking up at Derek. “If that’s alright with you?”

“Why would I say no? I have no idea what I’m doing right now,” Derek says, because it’s the truth. He’s never been one for clothes shopping. He usually let his sisters shop for him, and when that wasn’t an option anymore, he settled for buying shirts by the pack.

“Yay!” Straudia exclaims.“Let’s go this way. They have skirts that are pretty like yours.”

All of Derek’s secret hopes about this shopping trip taking less than an hour evaporate as soon as Straudia grabs Kira by the hand and takes off at a run. He supposes it could be worse, though. He could be the one that has to listen to a four year old’s somewhat incoherent rambling about how pretty sparkles are on shirts.

“Derek,” Straudia says, breaking out of her rambling to turn to him. “You have to be the judge. I’m going to have a fashion show.”

Derek considers bashing his head on the wall.

Straudia sighs and takes him by the hand. “Kira said you’d do it so you have to do it,” she says while trying to lead him to the dressing rooms.

“How about we go home and do a fashion show instead?” Derek suggests, because if he has to watch a fashion show, he’d much rather do it sitting somewhere comfortable with Netflix playing in the background.

“I have to do a show now to know which clothes to buy,” Straudia says.

They both look over at Kira, who tries, and fails, to wave around the massive pile of clothes in her arms.

“We’ll just buy them all.”

Derek knew it was a smart choice to be frugal with his money.  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Straudia ends up convincing him to also buy more toys than he thinks any child really needs, but whatever. It’s not buying twelve different Barbies is going to drive him into debt. He tries drawing the line at buying nail polish, but Kira punches him in the shoulder.

“If she wants to give someone a makeover, it’s gonna be you. Not me,” Derek says when they’re standing in the check out line and Kira laughs at him.

“Dude, you’re a dad. And a giant pushover. She’ll have you sporting pink nails and glittery lipgloss in no time.”

It isn’t until they’re outside again that Derek remembers he walked to the store, and there’s no way he’s going to be able to carry all of their shopping bags, and Straudia.

Almost as if she’s read his mind, Kira says, “You guys walked? It’s okay, I can drive you.”

“Ooooh, you’re coming over?” Straudia claps her hands excitedly. “Good, we can do makeovers!”

Derek helps load everything into Kira’s car before running back into the store for a car seat. Kira had assured him that the short drive really wasn’t much of an issue without a car seat, but fuck that. It takes him thirty minutes to pick out a car seat (he would have taken longer, he has to make sure it’s perfect, but Kira had texted threatening to abandon him) and another ten to convince Straudia that, no, she isn’t a baby if she still has to use a car seat.

He doesn’t think he fully managed to convince her, though, because she kicks the back of his seat for most of the ride until she begins squirming.

“What is wrong with you?” Derek asks, looking over his shoulder and frowning.

“I have to go potty.”

“Oh. Well, we’re almost-”

Straudia cuts him off by loudly exclaiming, “I have to go bad!”

“It’s okay, there’s a gas station up ahead,” Kira says, looking at Straudia in the mirror. “Can you hold it for another minute?”

“Yeah. But only a minute,” Straudia adds warningly.

As soon as they pull into the gas station’s parking lot, Straudia unbuckles herself. Derek barely manages to get out and grab her hand before she can try taking off across the busy parking lot. She continues doing her little potty dance the entire walk to the bathroom, but stops as soon as Derek tries to enter the men’s room.

“No.”

“What?”

“I’m not going potty in there,” Straudia says, wrinkling her nose up at the idea.

“Okay. Well, go in that room, then,” Derek nods towards the woman’s restroom. She walks towards it, but pauses and turns back when she notices that he isn’t following.

“I don’t want to go in by myself. It’s scary.”

“Straudia, I can’t go in that one. It’s for girls,” Derek says. “I can go in the men’s room.”

“But that one is smelly,” Straudia complains. “And I have to go, baaaad. Come on, Derek.”

He goes, because he doesn’t want to change pee pants in the middle of the gas station, but regrets giving in so easily when a woman comes in while Straudia is still in the bathroom.

“Peeping tom!” she shrieks, swinging her purse.

“My daughter is in here!” Derek protests, ducking out of the way of the first blow. The next two both connect. With his face. The thin line of patience he’s been desperately clinging onto snaps. “Don’t flatter yourself, I wouldn’t be peeping on you anyway.”

The woman looks like she’s going to tackle him, but Straudia chooses that moment to come out of the stall.

“I’m keeping my eyes on you,” the woman warns and Derek waits until Straudia’s back is turned before he snarls at her.

When he gets back into the car, Kira arches a brow at his slightly disheveled appearance.

“Did you get into a fight there?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Derek grumbles at the same time Straudia says, “He got hit with a purse cause he was in the lady’s room.”

Kira laughs, “Oh my God, really?”

Derek looks out the window. “Still not talking about it.”  
 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

While carrying all the bags up to the loft, Derek almost falls down an entire flight of steps when Straudia runs past him.

“Fuck shit fuck fuck,” Derek hisses quietly to himself. He can hear Kira giggling behind him and he considers coming to an abrupt stop so she’d be the one almost losing her balance, but he’s not sure how well Kitsunes can heal, and he doesn’t think Straudia or Scott would react kindly if he accidentally made Kira fall down a flight of steps.

The closer they come to the loft, the more Derek becomes aware of the fact that Scott and Stiles’ scents are suspiciously fresh, and he sighs when he pushes open the door to see them both sitting on what looks like an old woman’s couch (it has a goddamn floral pattern) watching something on tv.

“Why are you here? Where’d the tv come from? And why is that couch in my loft?” Derek demands.

“Calm down, sunshine,” Stiles says, kicking his feet up on a coffee table that had escaped Derek’s notice. “We got you some stuff. From places. You’re welcome.”

“That’s all mine now?”

“Yeah, unless you turn into a major a-” Scott falters and looks behind Derek, where Straudia is coming around the corner with Kira. “Unless you turn into a major butt.”

“Well, if that’s all mine, then Stiles. Get your feet off my goddamn coffee table.”

Stiles opens his mouth, probably to let loose a quick retort, but he’s cut off when Straudia yells excitedly as soon as she notices the two teeangers, and runs over to them.

“You guys took forever to come back! We went shopping, me and Derek, and we met Kira- do you know Kira? She’s really pretty, I made her shop for me so I can be pretty,” Straudia says in one big rush while she climbs on the couch and does her best to hug Scott and Stiles at once.

“So all those bags are yours, then?” Scott asks, nodding towards the pile Derek’s abandoned on the ground in favor of trying to find something to make for dinner.

“Yep. I’m gonna have a fashion show. Are you gonna watch?”

“Course I am,” Scott says.

“Woah, hey, am I invited to this fashion show?” Stiles asks and Straudia rolls her eyes.

“Duh.”

“Don’t say duh,” Derek calls from the kitchen where he’s started to pull out supplies.

He manages to get halfway through making dinner (which is just peanut butter -no jelly, because after trying to give Straudia toast with jelly he had learned that she harbored an immense hatred for it- sandwiches cut into triangles) before someone interrupts him.

He expects it to be Straudia that comes running in, but it’s Stiles instead.

“What are the other three doing?”

“Getting ready for the fashion show. Straudia is doing Scott’s nails. Pretty sure you’re up next,” Stiles adds with a shit eating grin.

“Did you talk her into painting my nails?”

Stiles’ grin grows and Derek seriously considers throwing a slice of bread at him, but he decides to be a little more mature, and settles for dipping his fingers into the peanut butter and wiping it on Stiles’ cheek.

“Hey, bad Derek!” Stiles yelps, scrubbing at his face with his sleeve.

“It’s payback for making me have pink nails.”

“You could always say no,” Stiles points out.

Derek snorts. “Okay, yeah, I’ll say no to my four year old that just wants to paint my nails for her game. That won’t end in tears. Now what’d you come in here for anyway?”

“Oh, yeah. Well, Scott and I were talking, and we were wondering...you’re going to make that room upstairs Straudia’s, right? I mean, now that Isaac isn’t crashing here, and Peter seems to have cleared the fuck out. Finally.”

“Peter cleared the fuck out a long time ago. He’s had an apartment for awhile,” Derek says, because that’s definitely the part of the sentence he’s supposed to cling on to.

“Okay, so why has he been hanging around here, and suddenly not? No, wait. I don’t care. I really don’t. As I was saying, we were just thinking that if you are doing that, then you should totally let us design it.”

Derek stares at Stiles. “You and Scott want to design my daughter’s bedroom?”

“If you did it, she’d end up with a room that had black walls and maybe some highly realistic wolf paintings, if you were feeling a little spunky.”

That’s mostly true.

“Fine. You guys can do it, but I swear to God, if it looks like pink threw up in there I’m going to skin you both alive. I fucking hate pink,” Derek growls, mainly to himself.

“Don’t even have to worry about it. We already picked all the stuff out. We’ll set it up while you’re at work Monday,” Stiles says, swiping a sandwich off the plate Derek’s trying to artistically arrange them on. “That way Straudia can come home from daycare to a nice surprise.”

“Daycare,” Derek repeats blankly.

Stiles frowns around a mouthful of peanut butter. “Yeah, daycare. That place children go when their guardian is going to be broodingly decorating birthday cakes.”

Derek scowls at him. “One, talk with your mouth full again and I won’t ever feed you. Two, I’m not going to broodingly decorate birthday cakes. I’m decorating them with a smile. And three, fuck.”

“You were doing so well in the fatherhood department,” Stiles sighs, patting Derek on the shoulder. “But it’s alright. I’m gonna help you out, because I’m a nice guy,” he says before grabbing a pen and scribbling something in the notebook that Derek keeps on his counter for reasons.

“What is this?” Derek asks.

“A phone number. Scott’s mom’s number, actually. She doesn’t work Monday, I remember cause she told me I wasn’t allowed to come over. She needs her quiet time. But she’ll totally watch Straudia for you!” Stiles adds hurriedly. “Just ask nicely.”

“I always ask nicely,” Derek snaps.

Stiles snorts, grabbing the plate from off the counter. “It’s not safe to live in delusions, Derek. And grab the milk, will you? Peanut butter is impossible to swallow without it,” he adds before carrying the plate out. “Look who made dinner!”

“I made that. That was me!” Derek shouts while grabbing the milk from the fridge.

It may just be peanut butter sandwiches, but they’re cut into triangles. With no crusts. Exactly how Straudia had told him she liked them after she saw some kid eating one in Target.

He’s totally going to get the credit that he deserves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once i was taking my little brother to the bathroom but it was a single person one so i didn’t follow him in, but as soon as he noticed i wasn’t coming in he ran out and tried to convince me he didn’t have to go the the bathroom anymore even though he was still doing the dance. the other day, my sister made my mom take this hat she had and cut off the feathers, then she put them in her hair pointing forward like horns, made my mom put a toy bird in her hair too, and went to school that way. i'd like to thank them for being so inspiring. 
> 
> also i just want to say that, in my head, derek and kira are the best of friends. they wear leather jackets and practice backflips together. 
> 
> also also things will pick up as much as things can pick up in the next chapters. so yay. and thank you for reading.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> things get a little heavy
> 
> there's minor character death. nothing graphic, nobody that we really know, but still. dead.

Melissa doesn’t even hesitate when Derek calls to ask if there’s any way she can watch Straudia. He offers to pay her, but she scoffs on the other end of the line.

“Derek, you don’t have to pay me.”

He slips forty dollars under her windshield wipers when he comes to drop off Straudia anyway.

“Do you think Scott’s mom will play dolls with me?” Straudia asks while they stand on the front step.

“Maybe. If you ask her nicely,” Derek says. “Remember your manners while you’re here,” he adds, because as much as he may love her, he can admit that Straudia definitely isn’t the most well mannered child he’s ever met. “If you’re not nice, she won’t want to let you play over here again.”

“I’ll be nice,” Straudia assures him.

The door swings open then and Derek waves. He doesn’t know why, and he feels awkward as soon as he raises his hand, but he goes through with it anyway. Melissa smiles at him.

“Good morning, Derek. And you must be Straudia,” Melissa turns to look at her while she speaks. “I’m Melissa, it’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Straudia says with a shy smile.

“Your hair is very pretty today,” Melissa adds and Straudia brightens up immediately, bringing one hand up to toy with the braids that Kira had put in while Derek watched.

(She had made him practice on yarn while he did, ignoring him whenhe insisted that he knew how to braid.

“I had sisters, Kira!”

Kira had shrugged in a way that suggested she really didn’t care. Her words confirmed the suggestion.

“If I don’t see you make ten perfect braids with that yarn before I’m done, I’m never letting you touch this girl’s head again.”)

“Thanks again for watching her,” Derek says when Melissa looks back to him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Melissa tells him. It makes him feel a little uncomfortable, because she says it like he deserves people’s help, and all he’s grown used to is the kind of help that comes from bargaining, so he supposes it can’t be called help at all.

Deciding he’d rather be to work early than freak out over past experiences while seething in discomfort on Scott’s porch, he turns to go. Straudia grabs his hand before he can go far and tugs a little.

When Derek turns to look at her, Straudia says, “You can’t go to work. You forgot my goodbye hug.”

“Oh, sorry. How could I so silly?” Derek asks, crouching down and pulling her in for a hug. “I’ll be back before dinner, okay?”

“Okay,” Straudia says, pulling back enough to give him an obnoxious kiss on the cheek. “Your beard is itchy, Derek. Bye!”

Derek watches her run into Melissa’s house and sighs. “She has no self preservation skills,” he mutters, because most kids he know don’t just run into someone’s house right after meeting them.

“Wonder who that came from,” Melissa muses.

She shuts the door before he can think of a witty reply.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes Scott and Stiles a week to put together Straudia’s room. Derek would complain about them constantly being underfoot, but he’s grown as used to their presence as he has to Straudia’s, and he likes the loft better now. It’s the type of space that needs people in it. Or maybe he’s just the type of person that needs them around, but he doesn’t like to linger on that train of thought for long.

Besides, with them working on the room, he can take advantage of the fact that one of them is always over whenever he has to stay at work late, which is more than he likes, but there’s a large amount of cakes that need to be done and everybody seems to think that they can just come in two days before they want their cake.

“They’re not my only customers. I have other things to do,” Derek had complained once, stabbing viciously at his steak while Stiles stared at him from across the table before breaking out into laughter. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“You...uh….you have pink dye all over your face,” Scott had explained while Straudia exclaimed that he had said a bad word.

“You’re so angry, but you look so cute!” Stiles laughed.

Derek considers it the universe’s word form of payment for that night when he walks into the loft only to see Stiles sitting on the floor with Straudia behind him. She barely looks at him when he enters, tongue poking out of her mouth in concentration as she sticks barrettes in Stiles’ hair.

“Wow, Stiles, you look bea-”

Stiles cuts him off with a raised hand and Derek almost doubles over laughing when Stiles turns to face him, because it seems Straudia had also managed to convince him to let her paint his nails pink and do his make up.

“You. Don’t you say a thing.”

“I was just going to say-”

“Nope.”

Scott chooses that moment to come back down the stairs. “Oh, Stiles, you look beautiful,” he coos when he sees his friend.

“Fuck you.”

Straudia picks up the spray bottle she must have been using to wet Stiles’ hair (she refuses to brush anyone’s hair when it isn’t wet) and sprays him in the face.

“Bad Stiles. That’s naughty language.”

Scott snorts before turning to Derek. “So...we finally finished Straudia’s room.”

“Does that mean I get to see it?” Straudia demands excitedly. The entire week, she had been trying to slip into her room whenever she thought Scott or Stiles weren’t looking, but all of her attempts had ended in someone catching her and leading her away while she tried to flop dramatically on the ground.

She doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s taking off for the stairs. Derek follows behind her, grabbing onto her hand when she catches up to her. He’s told her countless times to hold onto the railing, but she always fails to listen.

“Okay, wait. I want you to shut your eyes, Straudia. You can open them on one,” Scott says, stepping in front of the door when they reach it.

“Why?”

“To build suspense. Everything is better with it,” Stiles says from beside her.

Straudia looks between the two of them before nodding and closing her eyes.

“Three. Two. Two and a half. Two and three quarters,” Scott counts, laughing when Straudia growls, something that she had picked up from Derek. “Alright, alright. One,” he says, swinging the door open.

Before, when Isaac had been using the room, the walls had been an off white color. Now, the walls were a light, sky blue with a forest mural that had been painstakingly painted onto the farthest wall. A wooden bunk bed with fake vines had been tucked neatly into the corner, facing away from the window because Straudia always complained about the sun waking her up whenever she had to sleep facing one.

“Lydia painted the mural,” Stiles says, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group.

“It’s so pretty,” Straudia whispers, walking into the room. “It’s like a forest,” she adds, turning to face them all again. “Like the ones Mommy used to take me to.”

Derek smiles, but it’s a little painful. Straudia had told him all about the times her mother took her running in the woods. It was always just the two of them, playing while the pack ran in the distance. He wishes he could give that to her, but the woods haven’t been safe for wolves and their young to run in for years.

“Hope you’re not upset that we broke the whole ‘dark and stormy’ decorating theme you were going for,” Stiles says, looking over at Derek.

He snorts, “I don’t have a decorating theme.”

“Right. Keep lying to yourself.”

Derek can’t help the fond grin on his face when he looks back at Stiles. “Okay, maybe you did ruin my theme. But it really is great. Thanks. Both of you,” he adds, looking back at Scott.

“It’s no problem man,” Scott says, but the wide smile on his face betrays the attempted nonchalance of his words.

“Yeah, thank you! Thank you thank you thank you,” Straudia suddenly exclaims, quickly climbing down from where she had been playing with the assortment of stuffed animals on her bed. She hugs Scott, motioning for Stiles to come join them for a group hug. “You’re both the bestest,” she says solemnly.

She turns to Derek next, wrapping him up in a hug and he frowns.

“Why am I being hugged?”

Straudia looks up at him like he’s a little slow and holds on tighter. “Cause,” she says, “nobody should be left out.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He’s in the middle of trying to convince Straudia that, yes, picking up the toys in her room is something that is worth the time and effort when his phone starts to vibrate with another incoming call.

“Clean this up before I come back,” Derek says, pointing at the mess before he walks out of the room, pulling his phone out of his pocket as he goes.

He’s just about to answer when he realizes it’s Peter’s name that has popped up, and not anyone that he actually wants to talk to. Scowling, he presses the ignore call button.

A text comes almost immediately.

**Don’t ignore my calls. I know you’ve missed me.**

**I’ve been off doing some research. You’ll want to hear about it.**

**Derek.**

**I know about Straudia you dumbass and I know where her mother is.**

It doesn’t surprise him that Peter knows about his daughter, even if the man hadn’t been around for anyone to tell him, but Peter knowing where Jazz is? He isn’t toying with the idea of giving up Straudia anymore, not when she’s carved a space into his home, and this new, weird pack, but he still wants to know what happened.

“I’m a little hurt you ignored me the first time,” Peter says as soon as he answers the phone.

“Shut up,” Derek growls, making his way down the stairs. Straudia may not be a wolf, but she’s been spending a lot of time with Stiles. He doesn’t doubt her eavesdropping abilities. “You said you knew where Jazz was.”

“Ah, yes. That might be something better explained in person.”

Derek grits his teeth, tightening his grip on his phone. “If you aren’t going to be helpful, why did you bother calling?”

“I never said I wasn’t going to be helpful. It’s just sensitive.”

“Peter. Where is she?”

Peter sighs. It’s long, and suffering, and Derek thinks that he should be the one sighing considering he has to put up with his idiot of an uncle when he’d like nothing better than to cut the bastard in half. He honestly doesn’t know why he hasn’t. It’s not like anyone worth caring about (other wolves) would judge him too harshly, considering Peter had murdered his alpha, who also happened to be his sister.

“She’s dead.”

The wonderful alternate reality in which Derek is burying his uncle shatters inside his mind. He feels numb, all of a sudden, and he doesn’t think he’s talking but his mouth is moving and words are coming out so he must be.

“What do you mean she’s dead?”

“I tracked her. After I overheard Scott and Stiles discussing your newest problem, I decided my energy would be better used finding her mother, instead of pretending like I actually gave a shit about your illegitimate child,” Peter says. Derek wishes he could reach through the phone and punch him. “I followed her scent, Derek, and any other trails she left behind. But I wasn’t the only one. Did you know that her old pack pissed off quite a few powerful wolves?”

“That doesn’t mean she’s dead, Peter. I’ve pissed off wolves. I’m still alive.”

“Yes, and that’s the biggest puzzle of the century,” Peter responds dryly. “But she is, Derek. I found her, or pieces of her. Vital ones, too. I don’t think you can heal from having your heart ripped out.”

Derek pulls his phone away from his ear and stares at it before he hangs up. His stomach churns as he continues to process the news and he forces himself to walk over to the couch on shaky legs so he can collapse on it. His chest feels tight, and he’s not sure he can draw in enough air to breathe and he might be crying he really can’t tell, can’t bring a hand up to touch his cheek to see if it’s wet he wants to scream though he knows that he wants to scre-

“Derek?”

“What?”

He doesn’t mean to snap. Guilt washes over him as soon as the word leaves his mouth and he tries to school his expression into something a little closer to normal before he turns to look at where Straudia is standing on the steps, her eyes wide.

“I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean to sound angry.”

She looks at him for a few moments. “I cleaned my room,” she finally says.

“Okay. That’s good,” Derek tells her. “How about you just go play in there for a little bit, though? I...I’m working on a surprise for you,” he lies, because he doesn’t know how else to make her go, short of yelling at her. He really doesn’t want to yell at her right now.

“A surprise? Can I see it?”

“No. It’s a surprise,” Derek repeats, turning away. “Go to your room, please.”

She is quiet for so long that Derek isn’t sure she’s heard him, and he’s about to repeat himself when there’s the sound of her slowly heading back up the stairs. He waits until he can hear her in her room, quietly talking to her dolls, before he picks up his phone and dials another number.

  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Straudia fell asleep while I was reading her the dictionary. She should be out for awhile,” Stiles says when he comes back down stairs. Derek doesn’t know how long he’s been up there. All he knows is that they came right after he called, the two of them together as always, and they hadn’t bugged him. Had just let him sit on the couch like he needed to while they made dinner and put Straudia to bed, fending off her questions about why Derek wasn’t eating, or why wasn’t he reading to her tonight?

Now, Scott sits down next to him on the couch. Stiles is on his other side. He thinks that he should feel caged in with them on either side. It’s not confining, though. It’s almost comforting. He breathes in deep, because their scent has became a fixture in this loft now, and this loft reminds him of pack. Family. It penetrates the numbness that has been surrounding him since Peter called, and it hurts, but it adds to the comfort of their proximity.

“Derek...what happened?” Scott asks.

Derek looks between them both before returning his gaze to his hands. He realizes he’s been digging his claws into his palms. There are no wounds there now, but he can smell the blood. Without thinking, he tightens his grip a little, but before he can reopen freshly healed wounds, Scott grabs his hands in his own.

“Derek. Answer me.”

“Peter called,” Derek says. They both stiffen. “He told me he found Jazz. Straudia’s mom.”

“That’s...good,” Stiles ventures hesitantly.

Derek laughs. It’s a hollow sound. “He found pieces of her. Ripped apart, thrown in the woods like she was nothing.”

“Shit,” Stiles curses and Derek wants to laugh again, but all that comes out is a choked off sob. Scott pulls one of his hands free to hold it tight.

“I know how to do bad things. So many fucking things. And I know how to tell people when awful awful stuff is happened and I’m used to it now, because I’ve heard it all. It’s so easy to repeat it when you heard it before. To say I’m sorry, I don’t want to have to tell you this but...this...how do I do this?” Derek demands, his voice rising in volume until he’s yelling. He can feel the tears on his cheeks now. Normally, he’d be ashamed to cry, but he doesn’t have the emotional range necessary to feel rage right now. “How do I do this? I can’t. I fucking can’t.”

He finds himself unconsciously curling into Scott. He tells himself he’s just seeking out his alpha when he realizes what he’s doing, but he knows that isn’t true, because if he was just seeking out the comfort of an alpha then he wouldn’t be blindly reaching out for Stiles too.

They sit, wrapped around each other on the couch with Derek in the middle, until he can’t cry anymore. The tears have dried on his cheek and he feels emptier than he did before.

“How do I tell her that her mother is dead?”

Nobody answers, but he wasn’t looking for one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'd apologize for this chapter being kind of short but really my chapters aren't lengthy. it's a thing. and anyway, i felt like this was a good ending point for this chapter.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> googled "ways to tell your child their parent died" but then i was like wow reading this is all very sad, i think i'll just write it and not read about actual children's parents dying
> 
> so yeah
> 
> but hey i got to put isaac in this chapter. i love isaac.

He doesn’t know how long it takes them all to fall asleep on the couch, but when he wakes the sun is just beginning to break the night. He doesn’t feel well rested by any means, although who would after sleeping on a small couch with two other people? Derek sighs and slowly untangles himself from Scott and Stiles before standing, making sure to be quiet as he creeps upstairs. He knows that if he accidentally woke one of them, they would trail after him, their very presence silently asking questions he doesn’t have the answer for.

Derek doesn’t mean to go to Straudia’s room, but he finds himself carefully pushing open her door anyway. It’s still early enough that she’s sound asleep, lying diagonally across the bed with her limbs starfished out. It reminds Derek of how Jazz used to take up his bed when she stayed the night. She’d always make him sleep on the couch without apologizing.

“If I perform my good friend duties and come here to listen to you whine about your sister until ass o’clock in the morning, then you can let me have your bed,” she had told him the first time he had tried to protest, before shoving him out of his own room and shutting the door behind him.

Thinking about her makes that numbness he’s come to despise wrap itself around him again, so he shakes off the memories and makes his way back downstairs. He feels far too restless to try lying down again. Instead, he walks into the kitchen and pulls out a notepad.

**Went for a walk.**

**Be back soon.**

**If Straudia’s up before I get back, watch her for me. Please.**

He doesn’t leave with any particular destination in mind. He just walks, watching as the world slowly wakes up around him. He avoids the center of town, deciding that he isn’t in the mood for trying to pretend he’s okay enough to hold conversations with people that he doesn’t actually give a damn about, because he’s so far from okay it might as well not even exist to him anymore.

When he was young, he had known that death was a part of life. It was a simple fact, just like it was a fact that he was a werewolf, and no matter how good he was, there would always be people out there with their guns aimed at him. But he had never expected death to haunt him so closely. He had never thought that he would be unable to go a year without having someone close to him fall, and not kindly, because apparently those he cared about weren’t afforded the luxury of a kind death. There were no cases of people falling asleep at night and never waking up. It was always bloody, always violent.

Fires.

Ripped into pieces.

Swords thrust through chests.

Sighing, he shoves his hands into the pocket and abandons the sidewalk he’s been following in favor of walking alongside the shoulder of a road that leads to the preserve. There are not a lot of cars on the road, not at this time, but he doesn’t spare a glance for those that go by. At least, not until one of them slows and the driver rolls down their window.

“Get in, sunshine,” Isaac says, and Derek stares at the teenager driving his car in confusion.

“What are you doing out here?” he finally says.

“The Wonder Twins called me,” Isaac explains. “Explained everything, told me to find you. You know, Derek, I’m a little hurt you haven’t introduced me to your daughter. I’m great with kids,” he adds, his face serious, but Derek can tell from his tone that he’s joking. Mostly.

He briefly considers carrying on with his walk, but he figures it’s not fair to leave Scott and Stiles with Straudia all morning. Plus, he’s hungry, and he forgot his wallet.

“Why do you have my car?” Derek asks as he climbs into the passenger seat.

“I wasn’t about to walk all over town,” Isaac snorts. “Sorry, but I don’t love you that much.”

They drive in silence for the first ten minutes and Derek appreciates it. The walk had helped to clear his head, but he still doesn’t know what he’s going to say when he sees Straudia. Part of him wishes that he could just keep it from her, and pretend that nothing had ever happened, but he doesn’t think he could lie to her like that.

“How do you tell a kid that their mom is dead?” Derek wonders out loud while he fiddles with the radio. Isaac listens to shit music.

“Not the right person to ask about that,” Isaac says, slapping Derek’s hand away from his own radio and Derek would smack him for it, but his words have him pausing in confusion for a moment until he catches on.

“I’m not asking Stiles how he was told that his mother died.”

“I wasn’t suggesting it. He might punch you for it, he’s not exactly the most emotionally stable person right now,” Isaac says. He flinches a little when Derek looks at him with a growl. “I wasn’t trying to insult your boyfriend. Your other one already has the whole protection front covered.”

Derek frowns. “He’s not my boyfriend. Neither of them are.”

“Right,” Isaac says, looking at him like he’s an idiot. “How does it feel to live in denial?”

Derek growls at him again, flashing his eyes. It’d be more dramatic if he was still an alpha, but Isaac still reacts, turning his eyes back on the road and falling into silence, leaving Derek to mull over what he had just said.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 “Oh, good, he found you,” Stiles says as soon as Derek walks into the loft with Isaac trailing along behind him. He abandons the bowl of cereal he was eating on the couch and walks over, punching Derek in the arm. He immediately grimaces in pain.

“Oh my God, I think that hurt me more than you,” Stiles whines, pulling his arm in close.

“Ow,” Derek says flatly, in an attempt to make him feel better.

Stiles just glares. “Don’t fake ow me,” he snaps. “You know you can’t just get up and leave without telling anyone where you’re going, right?”

“I wrote a note. I said I was going on a walk,” Derek argues.

“I’m just gonna upstairs and avoid this whole conversation,” Isaac mutters quietly, stepping around the two of them.

Stiles watches him practically run up the stairs before he’s rounding on Derek again.

“Derek, you could take a walk and end up in Canada. That note was so not helpful. Besides, Straudia wanted to know where you went. She’s mad at you, cause she’s convinced you went somewhere fun and didn’t take her. If you had just written down that you were going to brood in the forest or something, we could have avoided her small meltdown.”

“She can’t even read. You could’ve just lied and said that,” Derek points out, although he does feel a little guilty about not being there when Straudia woke.

“Don’t use logic with me,” Stiles hisses before he deflates and gives Derek a careful look. “Scott’s upstairs with her. Do you know what you’re going to say?”

“No,” Derek says truthfully and he feels like he’s back to square one again. “I...I don’t know.”

“Well,” Stiles says. “Maybe that’s for the best. It never goes right when you try to rehearse something.”

Derek makes a noise of agreement before moving towards the stairs. He can hear Scott and Isaac in Straudia’s room with her. When he opens the door to her room, he’s greeted by the sight of Scott dramatically falling over while Isaac stands over him with a toy sword. Straudia cackles wickedly behind him in a long, black wig and a witch hat.

“Uhm…” Derek says intelligently and she looks over at him.

“I’m the evil witch. I tricked them, now Scott is going to sleep for a thousand years until true love’s first kiss wakes him. Do you want to play? You can be true love,” Straudia adds excitedly.

“Maybe later,” Derek tells her, looking over at the two teens. “I think Stiles needs your help downstairs.”

“Our help? With wh-” Isaac starts. Scott elbows him in the side. “Ouch, what the- oh. Oooh, he needs our help. Downstairs. Right,” he clears his throat and leads the way out.

Derek waits until they’re both gone before he shuts the door and turns back to his daughter.

“Come sit down with me,” Derek says, walking over to sit on the lower bed that she rarely ever used for sleeping. It’s primary purpose now was for story time before bed, since Stiles had damn near fallen backwards off the ladder the first time he tried to go up to the higher bunk to read. “I have something to tell you,” Derek begins when she sits on the bed next to him. “About your, uh...your mom.”

Straudia brightens up. “Is she going to come back?” she asks. She sounds so hopeful that Derek wants to run away, because he can’t crush her like this. But he also can’t leave her to find out from someone else.

“No, honey, no. Your mom...she’s gone,” Derek tells her. “She won’t be coming back.”

He’s not sure how well she understands the concept of death, but he knows that she’s been around it before. Any child raised among wolves has.

“She’s dead, Straudia.”

Straudia looks at him for a very long time, completely silent before her expression suddenly begins to crumble and she shakes her head.

“That’s not nice, Derek,” she tells him, scrambling off the bed. “You’re not supposed to lie.”

Derek follows, kneeling on the ground in front of her. “I’m not lying,” he says. “I wish I was,” he adds, mainly to himself.

Tears begin to roll down her cheeks and before he knows it, she’s screaming. He curses and reaches for her, but she smacks at him until he pulls his arms back. Even then, she moves forward, punching at him with clumsy fists.

“That isn’t nice!” she repeats, drawing in a shaky breath. “You’re not supposed to lie to me!”

None of her blows can physically hurt him, but he catches both of her fists in his hands anyway and holds on until she stops struggling. She’s still crying, but she’s stopped screaming at least.

“I wouldn’t lie to you,” he tells her. “But it’s going to be okay. Alright, Straudia? Alright?”

He doesn’t wait for her to respond before he stands, scooping her up in his arms. She wraps her arms tight around his neck, burying her face in his throat. He walks around the room with her, slowly rubbing her back in the same way he had when she once climbed into his bed after a nightmare. He isn’t sure how long it takes until she falls asleep, but she eventually does, and the tension he’s been fighting off for her sake begins to rear up inside of him as soon as he lays her down in bed.

His fangs begin to grow in his mouth when he leaves her room, rushing down the stairs. Scott looks up from where he’s sitting on the couch with Isaac and his eyes widen.

“Woah, dude, are you okay?”

“No,” Derek snarls through his fangs. He knows his eyes are flashing on and off. He doesn’t want to shift, not here. Not when he isn’t sure he’s going to be in complete control of himself.

“Derek, you need to calm down,” Scott says, leaping over the back of the couch with ease. He walks forward slowly and Derek snarls.

“I am trying to calm down,” he snaps. “I’m going for a run.”

“You can’t go run like-”

“I’ll go to the fucking preserve,” Derek growls. His claws elongate as he speaks and he barely resists the urge to run his hands through his hair. “Both of you stay here. I don’t need to be followed.”

“Derek-” Scott takes a step forward and he roars. He hears Straudia wake upstairs as soon as the sound cuts off and he curses himself.

“Don’t follow me,” he hisses, wrenching open the loft door and running out as fast as his feet can carry him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Every breath he takes burns in his lungs. His body screams at him to stop fucking running, but he pushes on anyway. He’s gotten good at ignoring what his body is trying to tell him.

He doesn’t know when he stopped running like a human, and dropped down onto all fours, but he covers more ground this way Which is good, because all he can focus on is putting distance between himself and...something. To be honest, he doesn’t know what he’s running from. He just knows that he couldn’t stay in that loft for a second longer. The anxiety, the rage...it had all begun to boil over as soon as he had to watch his daughter break down.

With a vicious snarl, he rises and swats at a tree in front of him. His claws take out chunks of bark and he wishes that it was the wolves that had attacked Jazz instead. He is not naive enough to believe that sinking his claws into their throats would do anything to bring her back, nor would it really make him feel any better in the long run, but they would deserve it. He’s tired of people that do awful things getting away with everything without consequences.

It’s kind of a hypocritical thought process, considering he’s not the most qualified person to be talking about justice. He knows that he’s made his fair share of mistakes and done things that he now wishes he could changed, because they had always ended with people getting hurt, or killed.

Drawing in a deep breath, he scents the air to see how far he’s run and immediately tenses when he catches the scent of another wolf. He’s acting primarily on instinct when he turns around, snarling at the sight of Scott standing in front of him, hands raised in a placating gesture.

“Derek,” Scott says. “Shift back.”

Derek bares his teeth. “I told you not to follow me. You’re not my babysitter.”

“You ran out of your loft barely in control of your own shift. You’re an idiot if you think that I would’ve actually left you alone,” Scott scoffs, taking a few careful steps forward.

“Just go back to the loft,” Derek says. He wants to back up, but is body won’t let him. All he can do is stand where he is and growl until Scott is right in front of him.

“Okay,” Scott agrees. “But you’re coming back with me.”

"I just need to be alone, okay? I’m goin-”

“No. You’re not going anywhere else. Straudia thinks that you left her because you got mad at her. She cried and told me to tell you that she’s sorry. You’re going to go back, and you’re going to actually deal with her instead of running away because it’s not about you right now,” Scott snaps, eyes flashing red while he speaks. “You’re not the only one that got hurt. Go. Home.”

Guilt and shame wash over Derek and he’s not even aware of shifting back until he’s on his knees with his throat exposed, whimpers caught in his throat.

“Get up, I don’t need you to submit to me,” Scott growls, turning away. He starts walking back in the direction of the loft and Derek scrambles to his feet to follow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Straudia is sitting on her bottom bunk, holding her pillow close as she flips through a book. He knows that she can’t read at all, but she likes to make up her own stories more than she likes to listen to what the author actually wrote. When she realizes that she’s not alone, she looks up from her book and her eyes widen.

“What’cha doing?” Derek asks. It’s a stupid question, he can see what she’s doing, but he doesn’t know what else to say to her.

Fortunately for him, Straudia ignores the question and instead asks, in a quiet, hesitant voice, “Are you mad at me?”

“No, of course not. Why would I be mad at you?” Derek asks, walking over to kneel before her on the bed. That guilt he felt in the preserve with Scott bites at him again.

“Cause I hit you,” Straudia says quietly. “And I called you a liar. And I yelled at you.”

Derek shakes his head, reaching for her. She wraps her arms around him again when he sits with his back against the bed, holding her in his lap.

“I’m not mad. I’d never be mad at you,” Derek tells her quietly.

After a couple of minutes have passed, Straudia asks in the same quiet voice, “Is Mommy really gone?”

“Yes,” he tells her. He doesn’t bother to try beating around the bush. There’s no point, especially not when she asked him directly.

She’s quiet again, and Derek almost thinks that she’s fallen asleep until she starts to speak in a soft voice.

“Mommy told me that she was going to bring me to my daddy. She told me that she had to go away for a little bit and I couldn’t come with, because it would be very dangerous.”

Derek thinks his heart skips a beat in his chest when Straudia pulls back to look at him.

“I miss her.”

“Me too,” Derek says truthfully, the words almost catching in his throat.

He sits with her on the floor until it’s dark and time for her to go to bed. He knows that Scott and Stiles are still downstairs, but he’s thankful that they leave them alone while he gets her ready for bed. She’s quieter than she’s ever been, but Derek isn’t alarmed by it.

When he reads her a story that she knows by heart, she doesn’t say the words along with him.

“I want to sleep down here,” she says, when he stands to help her get into the top bunk. “Will you stay with me?”

“Okay,” Derek says.

It’s awkward, and he doesn’t really fit, but she curls up next to him anyway, resting her head on her chest.

“Mommy told me that my dad was really silly, but he was nice, and he’d make me smile,” she whispers when she’s close to sleep and he can tell she’s having trouble keeping her eyes open.

Derek feels something twist inside of his chest and he can’t stop himself from asking, “How would you feel if I was your dad?”

Straudia smiles. He can see it clear, even though it’s completely dark.

“I think that’d be nice.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i finished most of this with my siblings fighting in the background.
> 
> children are evil.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is more like chapter 6 part 1, which obviously makes the next chapter part 2, but whatever

He decides to hold a funeral after Peter stops by the loft with a box in his hands.

 “I figured I would bring you these,” he had said and Derek hadn’t needed to ask what was in the box, because he knew as soon as he saw it.

“So how, exactly, did Peter manage to retrieve just her claws?” Stiles asks while Straudia’s upstairs, putting on the dress that Lydia and Isaac had taken her to pick out.

“Do you really want to know?” Derek asks, grabbing the box from it’s safe place on the top of the fridge. His words are partially a deflection, because he doesn’t actually know how Peter managed to retrieve her claws, but he also doesn’t want to. He’s just happy that they can at least carry out this tradition for Jazz.

He slips the box into the small bag in his hands just before Straudia and Lydia come down the stairs. At first, Derek had wanted the funeral to be small, something that was only between him and Straudia, but he’s glad that he opened it up to the rest of them. He doesn’t think he could do this alone.

“Oh, you look very pretty,” Derek says and Straudia gives him a small smile. She turns to show off all of her dress.

“It’s purple. Mommy liked purple,” Straudia tells him. “Do you like my hair?” she adds, gesturing to it. Lydia had managed to braid it up into a mohawk, allowing the free ends of hair to stand where they may. The style reminds Derek of something that Jazz would have picked. She had always been all about making statements through the way she chose to style her hair.

“It’s very nice,” Derek tells her before he looks over at Lydia. “Thank you.”

Lydia gives him a small smile of her own. “It wasn’t any trouble at all,” she says. “Now, what time did you say we’ll all be leaving at?”

“We should probably head out now,” Derek says, checking the time on his phone. “Scott will be waiting for us.”

The drive to the preserve is a quiet one, the only noise being the low music coming from the radio, and Straudia quietly humming along to the songs that she knows. He wishes that there was something he could do to make the atmosphere within the car a little less heavy, but they’re driving to bury the last remains of his friend. There’s not a damn thing he can say to make any of this better.

Stiles reaches for his hand while he drives, giving it a tight squeeze that Derek returns, thankful for a touch that tethers him to the present, instead of being allowed to wander within his own thoughts.

Derek drives most of the way to the spot they had chosen before he pulls to the side of the road.

“We’ll walk the rest of the way,” he says.

He knows that it’d be easier to drive to entire way, instead of leaving his car parked on the side of the road (“Which probably isn’t very legal,” Stiles points out while exiting the car) but it’s tradition that they walk at least part of it. He holds on to Straudia’s hand as they move through the woods, Stiles and Lydia trailing along behind. Not too far ahead, he can hear Scott with Kira and Isaac in the clearing that they had picked out.

When the reach the small hill that they have to climb before reaching the clearing, Derek pulls the box out of the bag he’s been carrying it in. It feels heavy in his hands.

“Can I carry it?”

Derek looks over at Straudia, surprise etched onto his face. He hadn’t expected her to ask that.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll carry it, and you can carry me up the hill,” Straudia adds, reaching for the box.

“Don’t drop it,” Derek warns while he hands it over. She stares down at it and he knows how it feels to be here right now, looking down at what was once a great presence, but now reduced to a handful of claws in a wooden box. He is all too familiar with the pain that comes with this moment, and he wishes he could take it from her, but this isn’t the type of pain that he can draw from anybody, so he settles for letting her ride on his shoulders while the rest of them walk up the hill.

The rest of the group is waiting for them at the top and it’s weird, to see them all so somber. Well, it’s not weird to see Isaac somber, but he’s so used to seeing Kira smile, or to sensing the happiness that’s constantly radiating from Scott, that the entire moment seems off to him. He sets Straudia gently on the ground and faces them all.

“I know it seems right to be sad,” Derek says, trying his best to choose his words carefully, even though it’s not something that has ever come naturally to him. “But...you don’t need to be. We use funerals as a time to heal, and to celebrate life that was had,” he pauses, taking a moment before he carries on, “None of you knew Jazz, so none of you have to be here. But it means everything to me that you are.”

He looks over at the grave that he had sent Scott and Isaac to dig. He knows that it should have been home doing it, but he couldn’t make himself come out here to dig another grave.

Straudia grabs his hand and pulls him towards the grave, pausing at the edge of it. She looks down at the box in her hands before she presses a kiss to the lid.

Derek squeezes her hand gently before he takes the box from her.

Before today, he had spent hours trying to plan out a speech. He had wanted it to be perfect, but the notes he had brought along lie forgotten in his pocket. He doesn’t want to rely on a script, not for this. He wants to speak, openly and freely, because Jazz was one of the only people that he had felt comfortable enough to do that around.

“You were a good friend,” Derek begins, the words coming slowly, because it’s hard for him to make a speech in front of everyone. “I don’t think I ever really told you how much you meant to me, Jazz. I wish that I had. You were the only other person that I had after the fire, other than Laura. You were the only one that thought I was worth anything. I wish that I could have saved you, that you had come to me for help, but I know that wasn’t the type of thing you did. You were proud, and you learned to rely on yourself, and you never wanted anyone to bleed for you. But, fuck, I wish you had let me help you,” he whispers, staring at the box in his hands for a few moments before he closes his eyes and takes a few deep breathes.

When he opens them again, he kneels on the ground beside Straudia. She takes the box from him, and he holds on to her while she leans forward to place it in the grave.

After they’ve covered the grave in dirt, and surrounded it with the wolfsbane rope that Derek had weaved (his hands burn, from the act of creating it and from burying it in a spiral around her grave, but it was tradition and he wasn’t about to abandon it), Straudia stands before it with the flowers that Scott had helped her pick tight in her hand.

“Do you have anything to say, honey?” Derek asks gently.

She kneels on the ground, wet dirt staining the fabric of her dress, and gently places the flowers right above where what’s left of her mother is buried.

For a moment, Derek thinks that she isn’t going to say anything, and when she does, it’s so quiet that even he almosts miss it.

“I miss you, Mommy.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s a cliche, Derek knows, but time heals all wounds.

And isn’t he proof?

He remembers his family, will always remember them, but it doesn’t hurt anymore. At first, he had felt guilty when he woke up and it hurt a little less to remember them, but he knows better now. Besides, he thinks, when it’s a week after the funeral and he can look at his daughter without seeing Jazz, and feeling pain stab through him like a knife, he doesn’t think Jazz would have liked them to grieve for too long.

Feelings had always irritated her, and she had never got the idea of people being trapped in their grief once she was gone.

“I’m a delight to be around,” she had said once, while she sprawled across Derek’s bed with her feet in his lap, “so I get being sad. But, like, crying and all that shit? No. No, no, no.”

“It’s just called mourning, Jazz,” Derek had told her and she snorted.

“Yeah, so? Still stupid. I mean, somebody could be out there crying over you when you’re dead and won’t even know, and then they get killed and what did they spend the last week of their lives doing? I’ll tell you: not a damn thing.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Derek only holds the party because Straudia begs him to.

“It’ll be so much fun! Me and Kira and Lydia can pretend to be princesses, and Scott and Stiles and Isaac can be knights! And you’d be the butler. You’ll be a good butler.”

Derek had looked at her for a few moments before speaking in a slightly stunned voice.

“You want me to throw a tea party?”

“Duh.”

And, well, there was no protesting that.

The day of the party, Kira and Lydia arrive together four hours early.

“I can handle setting up for a children’s tea party,” Derek grumps when Lydia pushes him away from the decorations.

“It’s cute that you think so,” she says, picking up the orange streamers that Straudia had picked out. There’s black and a really ugly green, too. Derek honestly doesn’t know what kingdom his daughter envisions herself living in, but he doesn’t think they follow the same fashion rules that they do here. “You just go in the kitchen and cook. I’ll handle this.”

“I’m just making sandwiches,” Derek says. “It doesn’t take four hours to make sandwiches.”

“So find something that takes four hours,” Lydia suggests and Derek mutters a curse in her direction before heading into the kitchen.

After a minute of standing in front of the fridge like a moron, he starts pulling out the ingredients to make a cake and gets to work. It doesn’t take long to make the mix and get the cake in the oven. While it bakes, he busies himself with rewashing all the dishes he had taken Straudia to pick out. A simple tea set had cost a ridiculous amount of money, but Derek figures that her excitement had been worth it. After the dishes are washed, and the cake is on the counter cooling so he can decorate it, he finds himself standing in his kitchen with time to spare and nothing to do, because Straudia had forbidden him from helping her get ready.

“I’m a princess, I have to look nice,” she had said.

“And I can’t make you look nice?”

“You’ll mess up my hair.”

He hadn’t taken offense at that, because it was true. No matter how much he practiced, he could never manage to do much of anything with her hair.

The sound of the loft door being opened draws Derek from his thoughts and he walks over to it, frowning when Stiles enters.

“You’re early,” Derek says. “Why are you here early?”

“Don’t even front, you’ve missed my face the past few days,” Stiles replies. It’s true, Derek had been missing Stiles’ company while he was on a mini vacation with his dad (“We’re going to visit my aunts. They’re seventy and they always pinch my cheeks when they see me. It’s not a vacation, it’s torture,” Stiles had explained the day before he left), but he wasn’t about to admit it.

“Since you’re here so early, you can come help me make sandwiches,” Derek says.

Stiles walks over to Derek and slings his arm around the other man’s shoulder. “Ah, how I’ve missed your charming demeanor,” Stiles sighs and Derek rolls his eyes.

“Get your arm off of me before I hurt you.”

“That’s an empty threat,” Stiles says, but he removes his arm anyway. “So, what kind of sandwiches are we making?”

“Peanut butter and honey.”

Stiles pulls a face. “That...is really gross.”

Derek arches a brow. “Can you really judge? I’ve seen you have chocolate sauce on a jelly sandwich.”

“That is not the same and you know it,” Stiles says while lining slices of bread up on the counter.

“Right, my apologies. I forgot you’re the sandwich king. You know best.”

“Damn straight,” Stiles huffs.

After that, they fall into silence. Derek finds himself thankful for the fact that neither of them feel the need to try and fill up the space with meaningless conversation, that they can just be in the same room without constantly having to bug each other. It’s something that Derek had wished for with a lot of people, but none of them had ever come to understand that, sometimes, silence was perfectly fine.  

Sometimes, it was exactly what he needed.

It doesn’t take them long at all to make the sandwiches, and after that Lydia has them helping her decorate the rest of the loft. She won’t let them put the food out on the table, because she doesn’t trust them not to drop everything. She doesn’t say it outright, but Derek figures she’s been hanging around enough that he has a pretty decent read of her.

When Scott and Isaac arrive, she does let Scott help her set the table, and whenever he looks over to see Derek and Stiles sulking in the corner where they’ve been sent to fill up a ridiculous amount of balloons, he takes a second to gloat. Silently. The fact that Scott’s silent gloating mainly consists of a couple of ridiculous dance moves and overly stressed expressions of excitement helps to soothe the blow, though.

He eventually skips out on balloon making to decorate the cake. He doesn’t have a lot of his tools sitting around in his kitchen, but he has enough to make something simple. He ends up using chocolate frosting (Straudia’s favorite, but he fucking hates it) and spends more time than he’ll ever admit perfecting a couple of roses to put on it, too. He’s just finishing up with the sprinkles when Straudia comes running down the stairs, Kira right behind her.

“I got everyone’s dress!” She exclaims, coming to a halt in front of the three boys. She solemnly hands them all swords made out of construction paper. “You’re all knights. Your job is to protect me. And do whatever I say,” she adds before turning to Lydia. “You’re a princess like me and Kira, so you don’t have to do what I say,” she says, handing over one of her princess crowns.

“What am I?” Derek asks and Straudia turns to him, smiling.

“You were gonna be the butler, but Kira said that the knights can do all the butlering, so you get to be the king instead,” Straudia says, running over to him while holding up a crown she had obviously made herself. “You gotta kneel, so I can put it on you.”

Derek kneels, bowing his head so it’s easier for her to put the crown on.

“There,” Straudia says, stepping back. “Now you’re the king, but I’m still the boss.”

“Oh, of course,” Derek laughs while he stands again.

Straudia gives him a quick smile before turning back to everyone. “Okay. It’s party time.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I don’t have a lot of experience with tea parties, but I don’t think this is how it’s supposed to go,” Scott says an hour later, when he’s standing in the kitchen with Derek and Stiles.

It had been a good tea party, for the first thirty minutes. All quiet and full of niceties while Straudia sat at the head of the table with a small frown on her face. It had stopped after she stood up, declared that she was bored, and ordered Isaac to get her karaoke machine.

Now, Derek kind of wishes that he had bought himself earplugs.

“At least she’s having fun,” Derek sighs, turning back to the pile of dishes in his sink.

Stiles swats his hand when he goes to reach for the sponge. “No, no washing dishes. We’re not passing up on a chance to do karaoke.”

“Uhm...yes, we are. Neither of you two can sing,” Scott says, jumping up to sit on the counter. Derek throws a washcloth at him.

“I’ve heard you warbling in the shower, you can’t sing either,” Stiles says. “And besides, you don’t have to sing well for karaoke. Obviously,” he adds, wincing as Isaac fails to hit another high note.

“I have dishes to do,” Derek says, which is a weak argument because he normally does just about anything to avoid dishes, and Stiles knows it.

“Singing karaoke horribly together is totally a couple thing, and this is our only opportunity, so we’re not passing it up,” Stiles says.

Derek stares at him, completely taken off guard, because it was one thing when Isaac had joked about them all being together, but this? This was not as easy to shake off, because nobody was fighting this, nobody was laughing it off, and Derek finds himself wondering just how obtuse he really is.

“Dude, hurry up before Lydia and Kira take over,” Scott says, pulling Derek from his small crisis. He reaches out, grabbing Derek’s hand to drag him over to the karaoke machine, where Stiles is already loudly complaining about the lack of musical choices.

It should feel weird, to have someone freely grab for him like that, but it’s not weird.

It feels good.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i gave straudia a frohawk during the funeral scene because i imagine that her mother loved that kind of hairstyle, too, so straudia wanted to do that for her. and i also love frohawks. my niece had one. it was the cutest.
> 
> lydia is the one that actually did her hair because i can just imagine her seeing the messy ponytails derek keeps doing and she just ends up teaching herself how to do all kinds of braids, so straudia can stop walking around looking like someone hasn't touched her head since the dark ages.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> heeey, i actually did a thing and didn't abandon it. 
> 
> so, i'll just take a moment here to thank everyone who read, and commented, or left kudos. it's awesome, and it makes me love you guys.
> 
> when i started this, i wasn't sure where i was going to end it. i decided that this would be a good spot.

Stiles sings like a dying cat.

Which is fine, because it helps distract everyone else from the fact that Derek can’t sing either. Scott manages to hold a tune fairly well, and Derek eventually finds himself sitting on the couch watching while Straudia forces Scott to work his way through every Disney duet that stupid machine has.

“Okay, I’m gonna do a solo now,” Straudia says, when the last notes of some song from Aladdin finish playing.

“I can’t sing with you anymore?” Scott asks with an exaggerated pout.

“It’s a solo,” Straudia repeats. “But help me turn it on.”

When the opening notes of Let It Go begin, Straudia shoos Scott away before turning to face the rest of them. It’s a little creepy, because she just stands there and stares at them all.

“Is...this the solo?” Isaac asks hesitantly.

“Shhhh!” Straudia hisses, glaring at him before she takes a deep breath, and begins to sing.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Straudia also sings like a dying cat.

Everybody still claps enthusiastically after her song, because she’s four and Derek would kill them if they didn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The party comes to an end around nine, when Straudia curls up next to Derek on the couch, obviously struggling to stay awake enough to watch the movie that Stiles had put on. It doesn’t take very long for her to lose the battle, falling asleep with her mouth wide open, drooling on Derek’s shirt.

“Aw, that’s gross,” Isaac cooes.

Kira smacks him in the arm. “Shut up,” she hisses before turning back to Derek, expression softening when her eyes rest on Straudia for a moment. “Guess the party is over, huh? Too bad. Things we really about to get exciting.”

"Hey, quiet over there, this part of the movie is the best. Scott always cries,” Stiles says enthusiastically. Derek wants to think he’s joking, but he looks entirely too serious.

“Stiles, we’re watching The Fox and the Hound,” Lydia points out.

Stiles shushes her again. She looks like she’s going to chew him out for it, but they’re all distracted when the old woman on the screen starts to drive away from Todd after placing him in the woods, and Scott watches with tears falling down his cheeks.

“It’s so sad,” he whispers, looking at them all with wide eyes.

“Okay, yeah. Party’s over. Scott’s clearly emotionally exhausted,” Derek says, trying to keep his voice low so Straudia won’t wake.

Scott flips him the bird.

Derek laughs quietly before he stands, holding Straudia carefully in his arms.

“I’m going to go put her to bed,” he murmurs, before making his way up the stairs. He can hear everyone starting to clear out, which is fine. He’s a little tired himself, and he’s not sure he can work up the energy to socialize for much longer.

Straudia only stirs a bit when he lays her down, and he knows that she’ll come wandering downstairs eventually. She rarely ever stays asleep through the whole night unless someone does her bedtime routine with her, but he also knows that it’s best to let her wake herself up for it. She’s definitely not a cheery kid if someone wakes her up.

When Derek comes back downstairs, Scott and Stiles are in the middle of cleaning up karaoke. What Stiles had said earlier in the kitchen had been bouncing around in the back of his mind all night, but at the sight of the two of them makes it the most important thing on his mind, and before he knows it the words are rushing out.

“What did you mean when you said it was a couple thing?”

They both look up.

Derek (barely) resists the urge to run upstairs.

“What?” Stiles asks after a moment.

“Earlier, about karaoke. It was a couple thing...are we...all of us…” Derek’s voice trails off and he shifts awkwardly before he stands. He doesn’t know how to have these type of conversations. Whenever he had been involved in a relationship, the other person involved had always told him what it was from the start. There had never been any guessing. Everything had always been laid out neatly for him to follow.

“Well...yeah,” Stiles says, looking over at Scott for help, and Derek knows it’s because Stiles sucks at this, too. He can find words to fill up empty spaces, but Derek has been around plenty of times when Stiles failed to find ways to say what actually needed to be said.

“If you want to be,” Scott says, quietly. “I mean, we’ve talked about it. I guess we should’ve with you, huh? But we just figured…”

“That you kind of knew?” Stiles interrupts.

“We forget how obtuse you can be sometimes,” Scott mutters. It feels like it should be an insult, but it isn’t. It’s just the truth.

Derek’s heart is pounding against his chest and he knows Scott can hear it. He’s thankful that Scott at least has the tact to not comment on it, because it makes it easier to ignore the fact that he’s nervous when he moves closer to the two of them. They’re both eyeing him hesitantly, almost like they’re afraid of how he’s going to react. Stiles looks the most like he’s ready to run, so Derek goes to him first, pulling him in for a kiss that he means to be chaste, but accidentally ends up being far from it.

When they part, Derek looks into his eyes, smiling softly before he turns to Scott. The way the two of them kiss is different, but Derek can’t pick a favorite between the two of them. He doesn’t think he ever would be able to.

“Us,” Derek murmurs, pulling away from Scott. He looks back over at Stiles, reaches out for the other boy. “All of us. That’s...yeah. That’s what I want.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

They give up on cleaning.

“I can do it later,” Derek murmurs, dragging them both over to his bed.

With anyone else, he would have been hesitant doing this. People always expect more from him than he wants to give, especially when he moves towards his bed. He’s gotten used to going along with it, because it’s easier that way, but neither of them make any moves to do anything more and he knows that they understand he doesn’t want to.

For a moment, he feels selfish lying there, wrapped up so tight between them he’s not really sure where any of them begin or end, because he knows that they aren’t like him. Almost as if Scott can read Derek’s thoughts, he leans closer, pressing a chaste kiss to Derek’s lips.

“This is okay,” Scott murmurs.

“We’re fine with this,” Stiles echoes.

They are simple words, but it makes it infinitely easier for Derek to relax, until, despite himself, he’s fallen asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He wakes up less than an hour later and wonders why until he realizes that he can hear Straudia upstairs. Derek sighs and untangles himself from Scott and Stiles, doing his best not to wake either of them (because they do have school tomorrow, and if either of them think that he’s going to let them skip another day, then they’re both delusional) and slowly makes his way upstairs.

He catches Straudia just as she’s coming out of her room.

“I didn’t do my routine,” Straudia says. She’s clearly tired, but Derek knows better than to fight her on this.

“C’mon, we’ll brush your teeth first,” Derek says, taking her hand when she offers it.

They end up brushing their teeth side by side, because she has the bad habit of trying to get away with brushing for less than a second. When she copies him, she actually brushes for the amount of time she should, and does more than clean her front two teeth.

“Spit and rinse,” Derek reminds her when he’s done.

“I know,” Straudia says, but it’s through a mouthful of spit, so the words end up distorted, and she also ends up drooling on herself.

Derek makes a face while she spits in the sink, barely able to contain her laughter.

“It’s bedtime, not funny time,” Derek reminds her, handing her a towel to wipe her face with.

While he’s helping her into her pajamas, Derek can hear Scott and Stiles coming up the stairs. Scott is at least fairly quiet, but halfway up Stiles ends up stubbing his toe. Derek smirks at the sound of his poorly muffled curses.

“What story should we read?” Derek asks as the two of them hesitate outside Straudia’s door. “Maybe Scott and Stiles will read this one?” Derek suggests, holding up a copy of “The Monster at the End of This Book”.

Straudia claps her hands excitedly and Stiles pushes his way into the room first.

“Oh, man, this book? I love this book,” he says, taking it from Derek’s hands.

They all end up sitting on the floor, Straudia in Derek’s laps while she holds the book. Scott and Stiles take turns reading the pages, making all the sound effects that are necessary. When the book is done, Straudia lets out a yawn and gets up to place it on her shelf before climbing up into her bed.

“Goodnight kiss,” she says, reaching out for the three of them.

“Course, we wouldn’t forget that,” Scott tells her and she smiles at him when he approaches, giving him a big kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight, Scott.”

Stiles gives her an exaggerated kiss on the cheek, which she repeats on him with a laugh. “Night, don’t let the bedbugs bite, Stiles,” she tells him seriously.

“No worries, I brought bedbug spray.”

Derek walks up next and Straudia leans forward to give him a kiss on both cheeks before lying back. He smiles as he tucks her in.

“Goodnight, Straudia,” he says, giving her a kiss on the cheek, too.

It isn’t until he’s shut the light off and started pulling the door shut behind him that Straudia speaks, her voice soft, but still sure.

“Goodnight, Daddy. I love you.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> again, thank you all for reading.
> 
> i want to add that there's some more things i want to write in this verse. i want to write about straudia growing up, and instances where she felt this huge disconnect from derek, because as much as he tries to be a good dad, he's a white dude. he doesn't always get what she's coming from. i want to write about all the stupid cake customers that derek has to deal with, because wow. there are a lot of those people that get so ridiculous and picky, it's like they expect a cake decorator to have magical abilities. and i want to write more about jazz, because i love her a lot.
> 
> but, anyway, what i'm saying is i'll probably write more for this verse. and if any of you have any prompts, something that you want to see? leave a comment or something, i'll probably write it.
> 
> if any of you want to find me on tumblr, i have two.
> 
> l0chnessa is my personal. you're not going to find a lot of teen wolf, mainly text posts .
> 
> werel0ch is my teen wolf blog.

**Author's Note:**

> i was going back to work after taking a break thinking to myself, "man, i wish there was a fic where derek's kid was biracial" and then i was like wait
> 
> i am writing a fic
> 
> i can do the thing
> 
> also, straudia is partially based off my little sister, who is four and probably hates strawberry ice cream.
> 
> and also also
> 
> i know not every character i put has appeared yet but they will


End file.
